eco means extended family

 I'm starting a new chapter and working up the thoughts that will carry the story through. At least, that is what i'm telling myself and now, you as well. the book i'm writing and hope to share within a reasonable amount of time, is about our connection to the land and water. And the air too.  If you know my writing, you know it takes the winding path. I hope that you will check out my books. Here's the link to my last one, riding the waves: a tale about being home in the world.     All my writing is about the environment but you might have to move away the leaves to see that. There's probably many of us out in the world that would love to be called a nature writer. But our imaginations and creativity, and our passions, bring in other elements that aren't necessarily what everyone expects of a nature book. That's because nature includes everything, even shadows and imaginary beings. Or at least beings we can't all see yet. The environment is a word i struggle with because I don't think it brings to mind what I want it to. Nature might be closer to what I need. All my writing is about nature. Okay. That's better for me. It better expresses my desires about stewarding the planet and taking good care of the wildlife. Yes, the people too.  Many people aren't familiar with ecosystems. But that's a word that is closer to what I care about. I'm still learning. Eco comes from the meaning of extended family.  My book riding is about that. It's about finding wholeness through and past grief by connecting with and knowing that you are a part of nature. That I am a part of nature and that all I love and lost from this world are a part of the world I love. Yop, that's me. 

I just tweeted this as a for instance of what you can gather is ecos - 

thewildblues

@thewildblues

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7s

#ecosystems #nature #writing #creatives. the combination that takes us home to ourselves. wishing everyone connection to what is real and whole.

i'm the wild blues writer. you can find me on Twitter here @thewildblues. I'm hoping to connect to the greater community and support everyone working to love the planet, heal the ecosystems. I'm pretty lame about this social media stuff but I'm trying. So eco echo or echo eco and let's find each other.

30 by 30 - preserving our lands and waters

 

USFWS Refuge System

@USFWSRefuges

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3h

Happy Birthday to us. On March 14, 1903 – 118 years ago today – President Theodore Roosevelt founded the National Wildlife Refuge System. Let’s celebrate!

: Peter Pearsall/

@USFWS

Some countries, and your too, the United States of America, is looking to save our lands and waters. This is needed, it's a blessing if ever there was one and it's a relief. We have to do this. I hope for more, like 40 by 40 or 50 by 50. I hope that we can protect and preserve and hope that we all understand what is at stake here. It means some are recognizing the need to do this and many countries throughout the world are.
I'd like to be faithful here to documenting who is doing this and where. Once i figure out this blog thing better. In the meantime, here's a some information for those in New Jersey

for information on preserving New Jersey’s land and natural resources, visit the New Jersey Conservation Foundation website at www.njconservation.org or

contact me at info@njconservation.org.

And in the meantime, share your love for the USFWS Refuge system and our National Parks. Honor the land and the indigenous folks that were here before your relatives. But honor too your place on the land and water. Respect the earth. She's our home. We might have travelled far to get where we are. Maybe our relatives were brought here against their will or maybe we were unwelcomed down the line. But today, we've got to recognize all of our rights, our belonging to the earth, and share our respect for all of wildlife and each other. Wishing all peace and thanks for the opportunity to wildly share both creative work and conservation concerns.

when am i not dying

 For Ruth, and for all our mothers, when am I not dying:

When our cat shakes with purr and pops her head out of her curl and her pads look like a hyacinth breaking ground.

 When we fall in love with another heirloom bean.

 Whenever we use the intimacy of a nickname.

 When skeins of rivulets join the larger stream.

 When we smell the ocean in the river and our mind is tickled by the notion of how the salmon makes its journey.

 When we listen.

 When we light up when you walk into the room.

 When the day begins to feel like a journey and you exhale into a deeper world.

 When we are listened to.

 When we are seen.

 When we move under the hush of the tree’s canopy.

 When a squirrel eats the bones of the bread turning it like a wheel.

 When you shake the snow off the forsythia and it bounces up yellow with spring.

 When answers feel right.

 When we see a wren try to sing with a worm in its mouth.

 When we feel the silver we’re wearing.

 When we have the release of the out loud.

 When we let the sun melt into our skin.

 When we stop, because there is something about the light.

 When we know like Ryokan, that we must go there today – tomorrow the plum blossoms will scatter.

@fredakarpf @thewildblues

please see my tweets on blessings, birds and more @thewildblues https://twitter.com/thewildblues.  please join with me in celebrating peace, the earth, all traditions that honor and support our world. my books are available through Kindle/Amazon.  

the ocean remains, the horizon remains, we remain

 I'm not seeking the eternal just the abundance of days that will come like the waves and bring the peace of a welcome repetition. Sometimes there are storms. Many mornings are quiet. Some suffer so much during these difficult times and I wish them the peace of the returning waves, the certainty of the horizon, the love they need and the food and shelter and then some laughter.  I realize how fortunate I am and how my book about finding hope in nature, riding the waves, rides with me every day. Riding is about moving from grief to the acceptance of personal loss through the cure of the seasons, the balm of the full moon still out on this cold morning, the welcome words of friends who care and recognize that we are all in this together. And what is this? It is the world where some have power over others and some seek to help and some find their own way and some wonder what they can do to make things better. 

I am writing a new book about nature and hoping you will find me. I will try to find you I'm grateful for all the good you do in the world. 

wishing everyone peace, safety, security, community

8 weeks and counting

 Spring is coming. Sure, Sure. I'm not writing about that though. We know spring is coming.  The hyacinths are tapping at the soil. The earthworms are thinking about setting the dial to defrost. But we know all that and more. What we don't know is if the menhaden are heading up this way yet or pooling around warmer waters.  Or if the osprey are waking up and thinking, 'Hmm, Jersey Shore, better get my place again this year.' It's the osprey I'm waiting for or maybe not waiting. Maybe I'm moving toward them. I mean, the least bit of sunlight these days, after so many days of darkness, and I'm not just talking past the solstice, but the country's trials, after so many days, I jump on sunlight out of the shadows I'm standing in and declare it feels like spring.  If that's not being too optimistic, let me tell you this too, out of a need for transparency. Spring is great. I won't argue that. But it's summer I'm heading toward. So I hope the menhaden understand, schooling around warm waters might be good for their members, but summer in Jersey is what they ought to head toward. If they move fast, I think spring will come sooner. And once spring is here summer get's the idea. This is how things really work. Summer is closer just thinking about it. The angle of the light is shifting toward a more dominant position in the sky. Oblique sunlight is losing ground. Who knows? Maybe it's the hyacinth causing all this. Praise be hyacinth. What a great flower. Just sayin'.  

New book installments coming soon.  

Be well. Hang in there. 

Summer is coming.

what saves me

 spring is only eight weeks away.  have hope. there is a new day dawning.

The baby Osprey was crying-calling from the river nest yester then he/she flew to a nearby tree branch and mournfully cried some more~~’no parents were in sight at the Moment to bring her treats~~~ saw a GBHeron in the river and an adorable nuthatch on a nearby tree~~ these birds are what save me~~ marsh woman

I have been a way for a long time.  But I am back and will be sharing a lot of new writing in the very near future.  

Have hope. There is a new day dawning. Spring is only eight weeks away. The osprey will be returning. The hyacynth will be emerging. 

Titmice in the can. Morning doves in the box - safe home

Stay safe, take care, and we'll get through this time of coronavirus.  

Titmice in the can. Morning doves in the box.  Sounds like a secret code but it’s a confirmation of the sweetness that simple sights, sounds and objects bring when you are surrounded by a cold spring and safe at home

A qigong proverb says that ‘When the mind is distracted the qi scatters.”  When your mind is centered at home, and you are safe, you can gather your energy around you and feel the opposite of scattered. Many of us have had a variety of whirling experiences that quietly resolve themselves the way once turbulent water flows down an untroubled tributary. The whole cycle might have been essential to bring you to this place.

I know it is a terrific form of amnesia, which should have its own special name, that has me fall in love again and again with where I live.  Yesterday, the sky was low, snow felt near. As I walked down along the river it felt as if I were feeling this sense of loving the area for the first time. That is the sweetness of amnesia. The river of forgetfulness that Odysseus crossed caused troubles. This one causes us to be aware of sweet moments. I know that the complexity of life often has us scrambling and we can’t see to see.  When we forget to be present it’s a lot like squirrels storing acorns all over the place. The squirrels don’t remember where they are. Instinct tells them to save them. Their fine sense of smell works to find them. When sweet amnesia let’s another memory wash ashore it is from our store of good things that we either deliberately or forgetfully accumulate. 

On the long stretch home, I thought of my friend that walks the beach every morning.  On a daily basis I spend more of my time with the wetlands. It is where I live. In the winter I can see groups of buffleheads with their crisp black and white colors, or hear the starlings’ whistles, or see the swans that look like the boats we used to ride in Asbury Park when we were kids. They’re all there along the river. I didn’t have to remember them. But I did remember how lucky I feel to live here. John Burroughs wrote, “To find new things, take the path you took yesterday.” I did take the same path home and I remembered.

In the morning, I looked out and saw that a blanket of snow had covered everything. We had cleared a path for the birds so that the ground feeders could get some seed. It’s not a code, just to remind you how all of this began. The titmice are in the can of seed hanging from the shepherd’s crook and the morning doves are in the box lid we put on top of the snow and filled with seed. The squirrels can’t remember where their acorns are so they also make runs at the box. Their sweet sense of smell will wake with the warming spring.