Image of Leaf Suspended

A Leaf, a Bee, and the Winds of Reverie

A leaf floats downward, released from the hard work of summer. But there is a stop along the way, a moment of suspended animation when the leaf dances with the butterflies, twists in the wind, makes friends with the bumblebee who gives the leaf a final blessing.

The winds carry us until they don’t. All it takes is a crosswind to buoy us indefinitely. All it takes is a crosswind to let us down without ceremony. But the webs of others can soften our fall, give us one last chance to be ensconced in the earthly world above ground before joining the fungi and bacteria and nematodes and other tiny organisms that sprang us to life. How will we spend those unexpected moments, floating on silken threads and stuck on a flower, when the world hands us not a do-over but a new opportunity?

I will say thank you, Tree, for holding on to me for so long. Thank you, Sun, for feeding me. Thank you, Bee, for keeping me company. Thank you, Spider, for threading the needle and connecting one plant to another to me. Thank you for welcoming me home.

34 thoughts on “A Leaf, a Bee, and the Winds of Reverie”

  1. Really beautiful and spoke to me deeply! Thank you for your passion for the natural world….I am one of your tribe.

  2. These more poetic posts have really been reminding me of Mary Oliver, one of my favorite authors. Such a joy to get them in my inbox. Thank you for sharing your beautifully-worded musings!

      1. Yes, and Dickensen’s line “the revery will do, if bees are few” lends hope that our efforts for pollinators can make a difference.

  3. Thank you for these words, images, ideas – vivid and beautiful … As someone else mentioned, it is reminiscent of one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver.

  4. My dear husband of 56 years died Saturday of a cancer that took his body and declared itself the victor. Your words wrapped around my sorrow and carried me to where his ashes will be, not scattered, by lovingly placed in a garden of native plants that will flourish underneath a ginkgo tree I planted several years ago. As Autumn signals a release from the tree to the ground below, those golden leaves will fall gently and rest on my beloved’s ashes to cover and blanket him. It is the only way I know for us to be together again.

    1. Linda, I am so very sorry for your devastating loss. It sounds like such a beautiful, peaceful spot to pay tribute to your beloved and to connect with him. Sending love and thinking of you and your words too as I head out into the day. <3

  5. Lovely. I have been thinking about how the drought stresses our trees and insects. The monsoon has brought some relief to Northern AZ.

    1. Hi Debby! It is so awful to watch things shrivel up during a drought. I can’t how extreme it gets there in Arizona. I hope the weather continues to bring more relief.

  6. Thank you for reminding me, @ this disillusioning & painful time in my life, that nature is my ever present friend & ally.
    All of my little critter friends are just doing what they need to do to survive, never looking to harm me.
    I’ll sit out in my gardens a little longer tonite because of you❤️

    1. Brenda, I’m so sorry that you are going through a painful time right now. I hope your evening out there among your wild friends brings you solace and healing. I will be joining you out there in spirit, across this small mad world, in a few minutes. <3

  7. Nancy,
    I think that’s about the most beautiful think I have read in a very very long time.
    Keep up your wonderful work.
    It touches us all.
    Liz

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *