Eco feminism – Page 3 – Feminism and Religion

Free Write at the Turning of the Wheel by Sara Wright

Pink plastic barbies in a pink plastic world they said it was great it was garbage insulting every feminist I know – as for ecofeminism – well it must be dead am i dead too? – how could an earth lover survive in a plastic world with plastic pink barbies I barely made two hours? -oh yes a few colors they had to didn’t they? And the hourglass figures dominated the dolls that tip over because they are so tall even without high heels – an insane movie full of patriarchal lies and this is our culture – constructed out of lies – i left in confusion – people i trusted said a “must see” – turns out one, a professor that recommended it hadn’t seen it – had been seduced by reviews – who doesn’t believe the new york times besides me ?– thick humidity greeted me at the door after the pink charade – oh something alive captures me from a ten inch tree – two rosy apples ignite a soul dead corpse – yet another torrential downpour blurred my

Understory by Sara Wright

“If this isn’t the manifestation of the Great Goddess Greening the Earth I don’t know what is.” – Sara

Time stretches, folds back on herself as I gaze out the window squared by the four directions. A slanted sun glows golden green in early twilight. How comforting to see the trees rotting on the ground and new green wrapped all around me like a cape. The hemlock branches are almost black against the sun that sets early in the gorge. The phoebes are still – a few leaves flutter – lemon lime emerald – we haven’t names for all the impossible hues of green. I am suspended. All thought disappears into shadowy sheltering hemlock and pine against a darkening sky – the day is fading into twilight…. To be steeped in green is to be blessed by the trees who will get to live out their lives as Nature intended because of the people who cared enough to save these forests – a gift for all who see…. Beyond the window a steep gorge has sprung to life – jewelweed and oxalis bubbling out of stone. Crystalline water flows down the hillside…It is clear to me why springs were experienced as holy places. The crisscrossing of downed trees fallen under wind and winter weather is nourishing the next generation of seedlings. Fallen birches send anti- bacterial mycorrhizal mycelial fungal threads to protect other trees and plants from disease. We know almost nothing except that the skin of this precious earth holds the seeds of new life. No wonder I can sleep…\

Magic Seed Moon Meanderings by Sara Wright

Without thinking I threw the old seed into a bag of moist liverworts that I would be looking at under a powerful microscope with my scientist friend Al in a couple of days. I have no idea why I added the seed. The scarlet runner was one I kept in a winter bouquet that I had recently dismantled. The purple and rose bean had to be four or five years old. It would not germinate now …

Imagine my astonishment when I opened the bag in the lab. The bean had sprouted! The fat twisted root was hunting for earth. Carefully I re – wrapped the bean and put it in a little container until I could get home and plant it, but not before we looked at it under the microscope. More about that later.

Stories the Stones Tell by Sara Wright

A couple of days ago I was climbing a mesa with my friend Iren who is “a guide to the wild places” – those places off the beaten track where stories are told by the stones and the Earth that supports them.

As a severely directionally dyslexic person who cannot tell her left from right navigating this hidden world would be impossible without Iren’s deep knowledge of this land, her expertise, her extraordinary sensitivity and her love for Nature. No words can ever express my gratitude for this friendship without which I would feel bereft.

As we climbed through mountains of human garbage and four wheeler tracks we discovered potsherds at our feet. Picking up the predominantly black and white pieces for inspection I found myself wondering about the women (and children) who gathered the clay, shaped it into pots, and fired the vessels to store food. There are so many untold women’s stories hidden in these clay fragments… Continue reading “Stories the Stones Tell by Sara Wright”