July 5, 2020
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
The acrid smell of cordite still hangs in the air this morning. Dennis mentioned that General Patton once commented that he loved the smell of cordite in the morning. Turns out he didn’t. But many others have. We don’t live in a war zone, but it sure sounded like it last night. Dennis said it was more intense and prolonged than what he experienced in Viet Nam. In our rural and wooded neighborhood, much of what people exploded last night is not legal.
I have a great uncle buried in Flanders Field. The poem is one I memorized in seventh grade. And it came to mind last night amid the explosions. I was thinking about the birds including the owl who was yesterday a source of great concern for other birds. I was thinking about our resident dear and her two fawns, who are actually just now walking the path from the meadow to within fifteen feet of my office as I write this. I was thinking about the trees and the plants and all living beings who were being subjected to the noise and explosive shock waves.
So I went outside to sit with the Earth energies here at MossTerra. I had been holding the energy of peace for our dog and cat who, over the years, have come to a remarkable place of calm with these explosive rituals. As I sat with the Earth I felt that strong and palpable presence of peace emanate from me. And as I felt the energy flow through the landscape for a few minutes there were no explosions. A gentle and calm quiet. This will pass. You are safe. You are loved.
Every day Dennis and I express our deep gratitude for the blessing that is MossTerra. This beautiful and wild landscape. We receive so much. So many gifts. Perhaps last night I was able to give something back. A gift of peace.
Judith – email@example.com