I played this post for my dad, who's staying with me for the time being. He liked it. He wanted to know more about you, but I couldn't remember ALL the details, except that you lived in NYC for a time, and have visited (joyfully) Ireland (and Scotland, too? I forget!), a place my dad has been several times and luuuuvs...
Anyway, we both thank you for this, and my description of your posts and your "way" to him is that you are like a soft, warm blanket in the cold. Cheers, m'dear! xo
Seeing your life through your posts and photos fills me with wistful pleasure. I, too, have been staying away from screens lately. Upon your mention, I’ve gone forest breathing three times this week. It was balmy in Chicago, it drizzled for three days straight, but the forest preserve (the closest I could get to nature in Chi) smelled divine because of it. The trees were whispering a tune and the cardinals looked extra scarlet against the melting snow.
The crow tune was most excellent. I would also be very interested to hear how the crows liked it, should you ever play it for them.
Thank you for bringing balance and tranquility to Substack, Barbara!
What a beautiful and refreshing post, Barbara. You simply can't not reorient us back to the deeper themes and tracks and the essential role Nature - and all its creatures - plays in our lives. More, the interplay available when we notice.
Thank you for noticing. And for sharing what you notice.
I know what you mean - the mixed bag of our online world (I think I do) - and the depletion of energy it can create. What a tapestry. I'm happy I saw the woman who now lives and communicates with her bird. The crow song is lovely. I wouldn't have seen either had I not opened this post.
And your reflections, how you weave the patterns of your life, what you pay attention to, the synchronicities of this world and how it's always communicating with us, I appreciate most. Your acquired calm comes through and is very welcome.
As an Aries - I've been known for my firey aspect - which comes, with a double-edged sword. I like to think as I get older, I've gotten better at managing that, but admittedly, it sometimes still jumps on the back of my impatience and when it does - well - it can surprise even me.
Thank you for this lovely and wise post.
PS - If you try the experiment with Owen's song, please let us know if the crows show up. Best.
Ah, beautiful friend, your wisdom is so gentle and caring. One of the things I love most about your captivating stories is not only the easy way you sprinkle straight up truth, but also in how they are like a peaceful river taking me on a journey for a few moments of my day. I so love your interpretation of the bird dream. This post is poetic and poignant. Love you and your quiet spirit that loves the natural world with fierce devotion.
I played this post for my dad, who's staying with me for the time being. He liked it. He wanted to know more about you, but I couldn't remember ALL the details, except that you lived in NYC for a time, and have visited (joyfully) Ireland (and Scotland, too? I forget!), a place my dad has been several times and luuuuvs...
Anyway, we both thank you for this, and my description of your posts and your "way" to him is that you are like a soft, warm blanket in the cold. Cheers, m'dear! xo
Seeing your life through your posts and photos fills me with wistful pleasure. I, too, have been staying away from screens lately. Upon your mention, I’ve gone forest breathing three times this week. It was balmy in Chicago, it drizzled for three days straight, but the forest preserve (the closest I could get to nature in Chi) smelled divine because of it. The trees were whispering a tune and the cardinals looked extra scarlet against the melting snow.
The crow tune was most excellent. I would also be very interested to hear how the crows liked it, should you ever play it for them.
Thank you for bringing balance and tranquility to Substack, Barbara!
What a beautiful and refreshing post, Barbara. You simply can't not reorient us back to the deeper themes and tracks and the essential role Nature - and all its creatures - plays in our lives. More, the interplay available when we notice.
Thank you for noticing. And for sharing what you notice.
I know what you mean - the mixed bag of our online world (I think I do) - and the depletion of energy it can create. What a tapestry. I'm happy I saw the woman who now lives and communicates with her bird. The crow song is lovely. I wouldn't have seen either had I not opened this post.
And your reflections, how you weave the patterns of your life, what you pay attention to, the synchronicities of this world and how it's always communicating with us, I appreciate most. Your acquired calm comes through and is very welcome.
As an Aries - I've been known for my firey aspect - which comes, with a double-edged sword. I like to think as I get older, I've gotten better at managing that, but admittedly, it sometimes still jumps on the back of my impatience and when it does - well - it can surprise even me.
Thank you for this lovely and wise post.
PS - If you try the experiment with Owen's song, please let us know if the crows show up. Best.
🦅🌲❄️
Ah, beautiful friend, your wisdom is so gentle and caring. One of the things I love most about your captivating stories is not only the easy way you sprinkle straight up truth, but also in how they are like a peaceful river taking me on a journey for a few moments of my day. I so love your interpretation of the bird dream. This post is poetic and poignant. Love you and your quiet spirit that loves the natural world with fierce devotion.