Reflection on the Fourth of July by Sara Wright

Early Summer Days 2025

Hermit thrush’s trill and the bittern’s kerplunk are only two of the birds that mark this dawning with squawks or song. Red eyed vireo sings from the highest pine. My little Lucy (Lucia means Light in Italian, one of my mother tongues) and I bring in the day listening to bird symphonies as the sun star rises over the trees splashing verdant leaf tips in gold.  First the ferns and then sparks of light sweep through the forest lighting patches of brook waters, lemony splotches appear here and there on deep humus, the rich soil that is conversing with the roots below the forest floor. Listen and you will hear that hum.

The phoebe family is fledging, and I feel privileged to be part of their story. Especially because they lost their first nest to a giant squirrel. Flicking their tails just like their parents the fledglings land on the little cherry growing just beyond my window before diving towards ground covers for tasty insect morsels.

The Mark of the Bear is upon us.

Last night synchronized emerald lights blinked at my window, and I thought about my dead brother’s message. “Life and Death are One”. Since the presence of my Hope is so palpable (though intensity varies), I feel as if I have been given a second omen to strengthen the first.

My brother’s presence is also palpable and once again I was contacted by a childhood friend of ours who is coming to visit next week. This is not a man who sings Davey’s accomplishments but remembers who he was – a gifted human being.

My passionflowers, ancient and wise – Indigenous vines – are stretching each tendril in a different direction, as they seek purchase outdoors on the nearest natural structure that I can find –(whoops I should be they, but aren’t we doing exactly the same thing?

Nature is home to those who have gone wild.

Offer love and attention but withhold all trust when it comes to humans. A hard lesson finally learned. The startling circular passionflower blossoms remind me that these extraordinary plants sing to me of the passion of crucifixion, as well as the plants’ ability to respond to grief.

Last winter the vines did this by extending curling tendrils towards the darkest end of a winter- dark living room a week after I learned of  my beloved dog’s coming death. Turning from the only light that sustained them towards the dark? Shocked, it took me awhile to understand what gift these plants were offering me – a comfort I could trust in a sea of full of lies.

Sedna, Sea Goddess, Mistress of the Animals arrived first in a dream. I knew that she would take Hope, that my dog was alive on loan. Six months of hospicing my beloved was the gift that was offered, and I took it with gratitude in my heart. Thirteen years of reciprocity and still our relationship deepened. Moments before her dying Hope raised her head to kiss away my tears.

 Passionflowers respond to loving touch and eventually die when given to those who betray. I have repeatedly given my cuttings to unworthy people who then lost them… this pattern of relating … how the plant responds to human betrayal mystifies me but then these plants ‘know’ what humans cannot… with access to all senses superior to our own, they listen, respond to touch, sense, feel deeply and passionately, see with eyes rooted to the mycelial net. Awe and mystery define my relationship with them (and by extension with all plant beings).

When one passionflower began to bloom profusely in early February,  months before her normal blossoming cycle, I felt the ominous pull, turning away from what seemed like such masses of flowery abundance sensing unholy darkness I did not understand….I am still apologizing to this plant in my living room that I abandoned in my own suffering…

It won’t be as hot today as it was yesterday, so my morning walk into a field of wild bedstraw and bowed milkweed balls will waft intoxicating scents my way. After that I’ll take a stroll to the brook and beyond. Trees, flowers and plants ask only to be seen and appreciated. I am only too happy to comply . While hile the first three monarchs flutter between milkweed blossoms, Swallowtails still dip and soar around my beloved’s grave, admirals seek minerals landing on my dirt road. All around, less butterflies to be seen. I am adjusting to losses by offering more loving attention to those who remain.

Another dream. Lucy has been given an extension. A second dog loss will occur by the time the butterflies disappear. When summer days end? If it’s the swallowtails they will stay until fall.  But I don’t overthink this message. All I know is that each day with this animal made of pure light is even more precious. I watch her sleeping peacefully, ears erect, coughing less thanks to Suzanne Best’s loving and caring attention and new medication – oh, I have been so blessed by this Vet.

At this moment memories of June spontaneously appear on my IPad. Flower after flower,  my Cedar Guardian, Tree of life (forced to the ground last November in unforgiving ice indicating to me the threat that lay ahead. I felt it but could not name it anxiety peaking). Such astonishing beauty, a wild rose replete with sharp thorns begins this movie, mayflowers follow – so much life burgeoning all around me occurring in one month. Ending with the passionflower blossom marking the stone on Hope’s grave. I feel immense gratitude because the darkest spring of my life has passed. More sorrow ahead but at least I am fully present to each peaceful woodland moment, asking only that Lucy tells me as Hope did when it’s time to let her go.

The Mark of the Bear is on my tree, yet another marks my soul. Three in all. One bear climbed the big cherry to eat the fruit… broken branches with half eaten fruit are my best chance to celebrate cherry abundance. A few half-eaten berries are the result of incoming chipmunks. These fruits are incredibly sweet, however the animals have first choice! And every tree I planted I planted for those non-human, more than human beings a long time ago.

Kingfisher’s rattle reminds me that fish still inhabit the brook. Yesterday I visited with  Jack in the pulpits who live in one of the swamps. These too have already flowered and will soon be bursting with hard green berries… In the field swamp candles abound – spires of delicately embroidered  steeples they float through the air below the intoxicating milkweed.

Heat waves and humidity keep us close to home, but today the temperature is only 60 at 8 AM and a fragrant woodland breeze flows through the window.  Relief may be temporary, but it is surely appreciated by me. Lucy and I need clean air to breathe and cool temperatures to feel comfortable.

The most unwelcome change is the prevalence of poisoned air and heightened humidity that now characterizes our summers, that and more falling trees by accident or design. Brutal thunderstorms  flood the roadways but don’t soak their nutrients into the soil. Plants (like us) must have clean air and water to live.

Today is ‘independence day’ – a twisted joke when the country is run by a few heart -dead dictators. The bombers don’t care and there is nothing I can do except to vacate if the noise becomes too loud. All of Nature is under Fire…

I remind myself that what’s important is being wed to Lucy, to feel gratitude when I can do so honestly, endure when I can’t, and allow my anger free expression without succumbing to hate. Most importantly I reject the Collective Mob Mentality with my actions.

Blessed Be.

Postscript:

This night we were assaulted not by fireworks but by massive gun blasts that split the night with mindless BOOMS that lasted for almost two hours. One person’s penchant for violence/ insanity was made manifest – the use of guns/explosives to make others miserable and to frighten the animals and birds is a form of BULLYING that powerless men use to intimidate… they hide their fears behind their guns. This is not ‘fun’ it’s pure male aggression. Patriarchy at its worst. Disgusting and pathetic. The next morning warbler hollow was absolutely still. No bird song brought in the dawn. The stillness was eerie… and ominous – shades of what’s to come. Read the signs people; they are everywhere.

We also had fireworks for the next two nights… Many people like them – I prefer fireflies myself! On the ‘party pond’ last night, I was glad that the eagles were spared the noise…apparently, they have moved on.