221 days in a row visiting water. Today, water was all around. Such a deep, soaking rain. And still now, hours after standing by the swelling bay, I’m listening, and the rain again is dropping thick against the roof/leaves/grass.
We sought vision in community at the Weaving ritual, now a few days past. I saw paradox... water and mud and fire and good roots in unlikely places.
It’s not yet clear to me what the water is saying or asking. And I recognize, now, that old anthropocentric, self reliant, hubris that is so easy to slide into around here. But I’ve been trusting water’s invitation, and that it’s important to respect and respond the call. I’m realizing that I’m feeling a new subtle pull after 200plus days of visiting. Especially when the tide is high. And I’m feeling a bit rude, having waited so long to share an actual conversation.
But maybe the conversation couldn’t happen with out the consistency of all those visits. And maybe, like Percival and the Fisher King, it’s finally time to ask. We’ll see...
Practicing mother, weedwife, animist, human, who's very thankful to live on the coastal plain of Southern Maine, in Wabanaki terretory, near a place called Owascoag.