Oh Earth Make Me, a Sanctuary

This is a song that I learned a few years ago. I believe it was the shamanic practitioner Sandra Ingerman who sang it to us in a class.

I’m notorious for not knowing the lyrics to songs, but for some reason, this one stuck, and it’s the song I sing the most when I’m alone in the woods.

When I looked it up online, I was surprised to learn that the original version is a hymn with the word “Lord” rather than “Earth.” I don’t know if it was Sandra who changed it, but her version suits me better.

I am so blessed to have these woods in my backyard. I have never met up with another human in them.

But I could have used one yesterday when I was snowshoeing alone and had one of those “Oh! There’s water under that snow?!” incidents.

I’m still learning my country survival skills.

I’ve been sitting in my Nemeton a lot lately, and it feels like I’m crossing into the Otherworld when I enter. It feels sacred.

Pure and holy.

Tried and true.

So, at the risk of embarrassing myself, I made that little video for you. I’m not so good at taking videos or singing, but I’m stepping out of my comfort zone. Again.

I love winter.

Maybe it’s because I’m a late December baby that I love this season, even though I’m not particularly fond of being cold. I’ve learned how to dress for it.

And, hey, there are no bugs!

When you’re an introvert and love solitude, there is nothing quite like the quiet hush of a snowstorm, especially in the woods.

We had one the other day. And another one is coming tonight.

When I was searching for a new place to call home, a location with lots of snow was on my list.

This winter has been a dud so far. The lakes and ponds aren’t even frozen for skating. I don’t know how the rest of it will play out, but for now, I’m going to savor all the snow.

The young Hemlocks make the best snow people!

Yesterday, I went across the road to the Audubon Nature Preserve. It’s over 200 acres of protected land for wildlife and all kinds of flora and fauna.

There’s a boardwalk that leads to the center of Atwood Brook, which runs through the Preserve.

I’d been living here a few months before a friend took me over there and pointed out my little house up on the hill.

I was gobsmacked.

There it was, literally cradled in the mountains, which I didn’t realize were there because all I see to the north are trees.

It’s the Sandwich Mountain Range, part of the White Mountains.

You might remember me mentioning that my moving mantra was, “I want to live somewhere where I can walk out my door into the woods, and I want to see mountains.”

I’d never lived near mountains before, and I’d never been anywhere in New England.

Now, they are in every direction.

So, yesterday, I sat there in amazement again.

At my good fortune.

I feel like I say “thank you” a thousand times a day.

I realized, standing there, that the beavers living in the beaver lodge are my closest neighbors.

I zoomed in so you could see.

I tried hard not to think about chemtrails, geoengineering, weather warfare, and how even protected habitats like this are under attack.

I tried instead to believe that I will see an end to the assault on Nature in my lifetime.

I tried to enjoy the moment.

Alone in such a sacred place.

The air was cold and crisp. It was me, the beavers, and whoever else might have been hiding from me.

This is my view of the Nature Preserve that I see every morning when I rise.

What can I say? I must have some good karma in this lifetime.

Oh Earth make me, a Sanctuary
pure and holy, tried and true
and in thanksgiving, I’ll be a living
Sanctuary
for you.

I hope you have a special place in Nature where you can be alone. Singing to the trees, the rocks, the woodland creatures, and the fairies.

A Sanctuary.

Much Love,
Barbara