
Feminists have always found holy places in the forest, under trees, near springs or wells or by rivers and streams and this year my refuge has been the forest, where the goddess lives still…I have spent most of the summer visiting in a very special forest, one that has been protected by people who have bought up thousands of acres to protect the land from motorized vehicles and other machines that ruin the earth. Old trees shade an understory that is thick with new growth, ground cover and mushrooms abound. There are beaver ponds and springs, rivers, and bogs. When I enter the narrow winding barely discernable paths I feel as if I am parting a veil to enter a holy place because the trees have been allowed to grow and the forest is so healthy.
My body is fractured at a cellular level because of the noise around my house – guns, fireworks, screaming motorcycles, belching trucks, traffic – so I must take to the woods to survive.
Sitting at the edge of a slow moving stream or pond I see reflections of the sky and trees that are accurately portrayed, above and below meeting as one undivided whole, so unlike our cultural picture that has become frighteningly polarized and distorted. Calmed by the water’s images I release societal horrors, the hideous sounds of human noise while listening to birds singing and imagining that I could just stay here, not just during the day, but at night. About ten days ago I was offered a little seasonal camp to stay in, at least sometimes, on this vast property. Stunned, I could barely comprehend the offer. In exchange for occasional use of this summer abode I have offered to write stories about being there… What follows is my initial response to this improbable happening. Mary was my first goddess. I fell in love with her as a child in a woodland grotto…
Mary’s House
Leaves scatter
shushing, whushing
crackling
beech, oak, pine
coat emerald moss,
nature’s mulch
piling up
around my feet.
I pass under
the gate
still firmly shut
in welcome.
Mary’s House
is carved out
of Forest Peace.
Hemlocks so
rotund I cannot
begin to
circle them
don’t stop me
hugging a tree
that beckons…
Under the surface
cambium breathes,
having been seen.
A sister gestures.
I stand beneath her
soothed by rough skin
and a fountain
of green fronds,
cascading needled
Grace.
I imagine cracked stars
at night.
Striped
partridgeberry creeps
over fertile ground,
clings to speckled stone.
crimson fruits ripen…
A slanted
noonday star
fractures light
under a canopy
of elders whose elegant
crowns converse overhead.
Below,
root tips embrace
fungal networks,
engage in animated
conversation.
Beech leaves
wave golden
fingers.
A cluster of
armillaria
captures my attention…
One dying maple limb
lets others grow.
From death to life
Always –
Nature in the Round.
Whose dream am I living?
Is it really true
I will find Refuge here
by a river
in whose reflection
Mary’s House appeared?

Bio
Sara is a naturalist, ethologist (a person who studies animals in their natural habitats) (former) Jungian Pattern Analyst, and a writer. She publishes her work regularly in a number of different venues and is presently living in Maine.
Categories: Feminism and Religion, General, Herstory, Mary, meditations, Poetry
HURRAH Janet you did it!!!!
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Yes, a little rocky but got there! I love how you always draw us back to nature and the woods. Thank you so much for keeping that forefront of our minds. And I love how you also connect nature and the power of divinity.
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Yes, Hooray to Janet!!!
Sara, I’m glad you’ve got the woods to go to for comfort. No woods near me, but Long Beach has a really wonderful park where, years ago, a friend who lived in Topanga Canyon came down here once a month to lead moonlight walks under the full moon. These walks were beautiful escapes from the city noise.
I’m especially glad that someone set aside and protected your woods from the machines of society, i.e., from our busyness. Biden is reversing some of the orange T. Rex’s orders to build on or cut down or frack public lands and national parks. Hopefully, more people will find refuge as you find it. Bright blessings!
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Unfortunately the mountain i live on is not protected – I have to get in my car and drive 15 minutes to forests that have been left alone. On this mountain they have snowmobiling/4 wheeling – ugh everything – The New Community Forest.
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And a hooray for Janet from me, too!
What a lovely exploration of your refuge! I especially love the line “Mary’s House is carved out of Forest Peace.” I can feel the peace in your words. We all need a sanctuary, but so few of us realize this is what we need or how to find it. Thank you for sharing this special place with us! I look forward to more posts about your experiences there!
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I look forward to writing about them! Thanks Carolyn – gosh it’s good to hear from everybody again!
or some of us anyway!
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Beautiful, beautiful post and poetry. I’m there in the sacred woods with you, breathing the pure green air.
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