Archives for May 2022

Peace of the Pine Forest

May 29, 2022 by Denise Brake 5 Comments

I’ve been crying a lot lately—not for me and my station on this good, green Earth, but for other people. I cried for the victims of Putin’s war—the mothers and children who fled their homes, the fathers and brothers who stayed behind to fight, the old and infirmed who couldn’t flee and were bombed to death, and for every lost life and destroyed city. The tears escape my eyes when I watch the news or see the headlines—it is my knowing that what I am witnessing is antithetical to Goodness. Last week it was for the grocery shoppers in Buffalo, New York who were targeted and killed because of their skin color. This week, the tears flowed again for the young students and teachers at Uvalde, Texas. It could literally happen at any school at any time. Even the mass shootings happen so frequently that the mourning for the one before has hardly begun before it is ‘lost’ to the coverage of the newest one. Not to mention all the other, pervasive deaths by violence. Not to mention the perverse political rhetoric around the ‘reasons’ for the deaths. It is soul-crushing.

I know for sure that the fallout from each one of these violent losses of life is far-reaching and will be long-lived. Many of the victims, the families, the first responders, and the witnesses will carry the burden of trauma with them for their lifetime. The price we as individual persons and as a society pay for violence is unbelievably staggering. In the midst of a political culture that is not doing all it can to help prevent such tragedies, an individual person can feel overwhelmed and impotent in the face of it all. What do we do? Let me begin with a story that presented me with an important lesson.

Seventeen years ago when my father-in-law died, my brother-in-law sent a message to us that ended with “Peace be with you.” I was already in a state of activation—death, grief, loss, change—and I remember exclaiming rather indignantly to Chris, ” How can we have peace at a time like this?!” I did not understand at the time that my brother-in-law was offering a gift to each of us individually—that in spite of our loss and grief, we could have the comfort of peace. I did not accept that gift at the time—I didn’t know how—but since that time, I have not forgotten that offering. I have tried again and again and again to find peace within myself in the midst of my own pain and loss and of that of the world’s. A substantial part of finding peace in a time of crisis or a reaction to it, is learning to calm down our activated bodies—and when a person has an ingrained trauma response, it takes lots of practice to change. One of my practices to calm down and find peace is to go to the woods—I did it intuitively as a child, and I do it intentionally as an older adult. I find peace in the Pine forest.

So we went to Warner Lake County Park where I left Chris and his healing hip to sit beside the lake. He could see the Pine forest across the water. He was in the midst of the noise and exuberance of young adults who were already free for the summer and were anxious to sunbathe and swim in the chilly lake water. I tried to appreciate their exuberance even as I gladly walked away from their noise. Come walk with me into the forest.

According to florgeous.com, Violets symbolize honesty, protection, dreams, healing, and remembrance. May it be so. Peace of the Pine forest be with you.

Something Old, Something New

May 22, 2022 by Denise Brake 8 Comments

A couple of big things have happened in the last two weeks—we celebrated an old marriage, and Chris got a new hip! The hip came first—I am just amazed at the technology that a robot can help the surgeon take out an old, damaged joint and replace it with a new one that works better. Along with the fact the person walks out the door just hours later! Wow! But just as miraculous is forty years of marriage! It’s a relatively old marriage, though perhaps more middle-aged when I think of my friends who have crossed the sixty-year marriage mark. We looked at pictures from that day forty years ago when we were new adults, newlyweds, new partners. It was a sweet and wonderful day!

Hip recovery requires care, some new equipment, patience on both our parts, practice of therapy exercises, pillows, and ice. This second phase is super important to make sure the excellence of the first phase remains. So we c-a-r-e-f-u-l-l-y went on an outing this week, packing up the needed equipment for Chris to sit under the old giant Pines at Belle Prairie Park while I took a hike. He looked out over Old Man River whose water overflowed its banks with Spring flooding. Something old—the old River reminds us and ties us to the past—the hard times and the good times.

Something new. New leaves. New flowers. So tender and sweet and pristine. Hope for the future.

Something borrowed. The beavers were busy using the floodwaters to their advantage, borrowing the young trees to make their home. It’s easier to move logs in water than across land. They are building for a long, happy life.

Spring flowers fit for a wedding! Wood Anemone is no flash-in-the-pan flower. It takes a single plant five years or longer before flowering! Commitment and tenacity.

The marsh and the forest are a combination of Old and New. The marsh is always ready to accept the Spring floodwaters, year after year, which in turn nourishes the lovely, brilliant Marsh Marigolds. Their buttercup flowers and glossy, heart-shaped leaves are a swath of sunshine through the Spring forest.

Old bark on old tree trunks shows the signs and scars of age and wear. Living long takes its toll, even on trees. Right beside them grow the young ones with smooth, gray bark—a long life ahead of them. And both get new leaves every year. Renewal is for everyone!

Something blue. Violets were scattered along the trail, warding off evil and giving me nods of good luck.

Surprises. Both of these surprises could be seen from far away at this time of year—before the leaves offer a shield or camouflage. An Oriole nest, a marvel of construction—does it house a nest full of eggs?

As bright as the Marsh Marigolds was a Scarlet Tanager, though with flaming red feathers and contrasting black wings. A handsome gem in the Spring forest!

Then back to the Mississippi River with flowering Wild Plums growing along its banks. The big island trees had their feet in the flood waters, as the new foliage began to cover their impressive Winter silhouettes.

“Ol’ man river just keeps rollin’ along.” Oscar Hammerstein

The wedding tradition of ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue’ incorporates values and qualities that we wish for every new couple. It honors the long river of the past and the people who came before us, it encourages hope and prosperity for the future, it advises to learn lessons from the people who have already traveled that path, and wishes good luck—to do good and avoid evil. All four values are enveloped in love. For forty years, Chris and I have committed to these values. We have seen hard times and good times with surprises of both. With the scars and signs of age, we know there is always renewal and along with it, sweet hope, like nectar for our souls. We have learned that the old builds the new—what was is the foundation for what’s to come—whether of ideas, emotions, mistakes, or actual physical manifestations. We keep rolling along, building our long, happy life together.

Walking in Sun Sparkles

May 8, 2022 by Denise Brake 2 Comments

Me making decisions is an excruciating exercise for most of the people around me who do so ‘normally’ or God forbid, quickly. This decision-making can be about buying something or doing something or getting someone to do a repair or whatever. It takes me a long time to decide. It’s part of the fall-out of my perfectionism, I think—I’m afraid I will make the ‘wrong’ decision. So I look at things, read endless reviews, think about it, wonder if the quality is ‘good enough,’ question the future utility of the object, look at it again, think about the pros and cons, wonder if I have enough energy to do something, think about the ramifications, and the craziest of all, wonder what other people would do or will think. It’s exhausting just reading about the process, isn’t it?!

Mother Nature seems to have been in my indecisive mode when it came to Spring this year—she allowed the snow to melt, then made it snow; warmed things up, then froze things; showed the tiniest bit of green, then brown, brown, brown. But we no longer have to search for Spring—Mother Nature is all in on the Spring decision! It was a long time coming, but Spring is bursting forth everywhere! With the snow melt, ice melt, and Spring rains, the Mississippi River has overflowed its banks. When it comes to wildfires and floods, though we most often think of them in negative ways, there is a time and place for each of them. Fires and floods have been an integral part of our ecosystem since the beginning and bring benefits to the plants that inhabit the places that are affected. A floodplain is low lying ground around a river that periodically floods. It is rich with river sediments and nutrients and has a diverse and abundant plant population. As I walked along the River at Mississippi River County Park, I could see the flooding of lowlands and islands.

With the water and nutrients from flooding, and the warm sun of Spring, vegetation was springing from the ground. The trio of leaves of Trillium were unfurling on their long red stems—soon a single flower with three petals will emerge from the foliage for a short period of time until the whole plant dies back for the rest of the year.

The early-blooming Spring Ephemerals have an accelerated growth cycle, taking advantage of the sunshine that filters down before the trees produce their leaves. Dutchman Breeches like to grow on the drier embankments by the River.

Bloodroots were in their full glory! Their single leaf with scalloped lobes wraps like a blanket around a single flower. Often the flower blooms before the leaf unfolds.

Gooseberry shrubs are one of the first to leaf out, and the spotted leaves of White Trout Lilies carpeted the forest floor, where a week ago it was brown.

A few had begun to bloom, and the bees were already gathering pollen and sipping nectar from them.

Hairy Wild Ginger was also unfurling from its underground sleep. The low-lying red flowers were still in tight buds.

The backwaters of the Mississippi—those ponds and streams that often stay filled year-round—were also flooded. I crossed a bridge that had streams of water on both sides that I jumped across. Turtles had their sunning logs poking into the water, and when I got too close, they plopped into the pond leaving only air bubbles behind.

I thought the inland trail would be passable, but very soon after the bridge, water spilled over it. The first ‘puddle’ had an edge of vegetation and a stick that helped me pass with only a little mud on my shoes.

I spotted a Great Blue Heron in the flooded area beside the trail and knelt down to get his picture—what a handsome bird! He walked among the sun sparkles and red Maple flowers that floated on the water.

When I stood up, he flew a bit farther away where I could see his long legs, and I realized how deep the water was where he walked in the flowers and sparkles.

The next trail ‘puddle’ was long and too deep to skirt by. I realized that I wasn’t going to get through without getting my feet wet—so into the flood water I walked. It was warmer than I expected at this time of year. I must have walked through four or five flood puddles before I got to higher ground. I had walked this path many times before but never in water up to my knees!

At the end of the last flood puddle, I found a downy feather, half white, half gray, among the debris and Maple flowers. Smiling to myself, I joyfully celebrated that Spring was really here!

My indecisive decision-making is time and energy consuming, and I had an ally in Mother Nature this Spring. But like Mother Nature’s all-in commitment to Spring this week, once I make a decision, I rarely change my mind or regret the choice I made. I’m still trying to hone down my process. In certain areas of my life, I am able to make faster decisions with confidence—like the Great Blue Heron, I stepped into the flood waters without deliberation. There is a time and place for everything under heaven. In our limited thinking (compared to the Universe), we often judge things as good or bad, wise or foolish, right or wrong, and yet we don’t see the whole picture—that fire can rejuvenate, that flood waters can fuel growth and sustain lives, and that we can joyfully celebrate all the seasons of our lives.

Waiting for What We Want

May 1, 2022 by Denise Brake 3 Comments

I remember the bubbling, hard-to-contain excitement I felt in grade school as the large round clock face inched its way towards the end of the school day. It wasn’t with a sense of relief that I moved towards that bell ringing, because I loved school and learning, but I looked forward to the other things in my life that were also meaningful—horses in the pasture by our driveway, cats and dogs at our home, and acres of woods behind our house where we built forts and made trails. My first way of learning. It’s hard to wait when something is pulling you forward.

I would not be stepping on anyone’s toes in stating that Minnesotans are anxiously waiting for Spring. She has shown up on the calendar, in the snow melt, and maybe in some moderating temperatures, but we have seen snow, freezing high temps, and barren ground. At least with waiting for Spring, kind of like watching the clock at school, we know with certainty that it will come.

On the 21st, one month after the official start of Spring, I walked at Saint John’s Arboretum in the hopes of seeing Spring come bursting forth. I found a scroll of Birch bark—did this hold the secret script of Spring’s timeline?

I found one patch of snow still on a shady stretch of trail. I found the reassuring green of moss covering a sloping bank and the first ‘flowers’ of the season pushing up stalks of spores from the soft bed of moss.

I found some green Fern fronds and a few trails of Wild Strawberries that had maintained their ‘greenness’ under the blanket of Winter snow.

I found a hardy Thistle rosette that had stubbornly thrived under the snow.

And on the prairie, I searched high and low for the early-blooming Pasque flower to no avail, but I did find the green leaves of Prairie Smoke under the old grass litter—a small signal of Spring hope.

But that was it—beyond the tough little Pine seedlings that survive the snow burial of Winter which actually protects them from extreme cold and nibbling rabbits and deer. Gotta love them!

So I waited another week—one 60 degree day and some rain tricked us all into thinking this was it, but the cold returned, the sun hid behind pouty clouds, and we all waited again. Then on Thursday, I noticed a change! Leaf buds were showing and swelling and even opening! Lilacs, Gooseberries, and Elderberries! Oh, my!

Scarlet Cup mushrooms, the first showy color that peeks from the forest floor, are one of only a few mushrooms that can grow when conditions are below freezing. They have been in their chilly element these past weeks.

In a day’s time, some sort of perennial Lily did finally burst forth, growing inches in hours! Now that is truly Spring!

This weekend has been rainy, though still below-average temperatures, and will be the game changer. The grass looks greener overnight, enticing the rabbits and deer to munch on the vernal goodness. And the Crabapples will soon be blooming!

The wait is not over, but the things we want from Spring—warmer temps, leaves, green grass, and flowers—are manifesting as I write. It’s hard to wait for what we want. We live in such an instantaneous self-gratifying world (thanks technology), and it has trained us to be impatient when things don’t go our way. But waiting for and anticipating something that is exciting for us can be a gift in and of itself. I remember wanting my own horse but having to wait for years before I had earned enough money from cleaning out stalls at our neighbor’s horse farm. I remember wanting to be married to Chris, to see him every day but waiting in different states until our wedding day. The conditions have to be right—for Spring, for buying things, for getting married. And sometimes, we don’t get what we want—the conditions are never just right, our will or desire is not enough to overcome the odds, another person is unwilling or unable, or things are so beyond our control that we cannot get what we want or even need. But the things that pull us forward are limitless—the Spirit of the Universe never sleeps. Spring will arrive, then Summer, Fall, and Winter. It may not be on our time schedule of wants, but it will happen. That’s reassuring. Waiting also gets us out of our own heads and our thinking that we are the Kings and Queens of the world. We are not. We have things to learn—patience may be one of them. And sometimes, oftentimes, the outcome—whether a flowering Spring, a wonderful horse, or a beautiful marriage—is definitely worth the wait.

Archives for May 2022

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