Today marks the Autumn Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere. A turning point in time, when the days become shorter than the nights and the world around us begins to draw inwards preparing for the Winter ahead.
We are grateful for Nature’s bountiful harvest, our cupboards are full and the act of replenishing our winter stores is in full swing. There is much to be thankful for. In spite of the dry conditions the plants we have nurtured in our small garden have given up much to provide us with food for our table. It is a mast year and the trees in particular have yielded such a bounty of fruit that we can barely cope with the surplus. Yet nothing is wasted.
I am reminded of a quote from Robin Wall Kimmerer.
I store my meat in the belly of my brother
The food we could not eat, or store ourselves we have shared with our human friends and that which was left we shared with our wild friends (birds, squirrels, others) and with the soil beneath our feet ensuring that the hard won nutrients and energy are returned to the plants for future years.
In spite of all this bounty, as the days darken and the Summer colours fade it is easy to allow ourselves to fade a little too. Yet we remain hopeful. But what is hope? I would like to share with you a poem I wrote a year or two ago which explores this question.
What is Hope?
Is living in hope for a better tomorrow holding us back from doing all that we can today?
Is hoping too much for a better tomorrow making us judge our efforts today as too small?
Or is hope the tension which brings balance to this moment, helping us to make each day better than the last, with still enough energy for the next?
Heather Comina, October 2023
Images in Tree font created by the artist Katie Holten
I would like to think that hope is the tension bringing balance to this moment. I know that I am not alone in this and there are many others who share my world view and work tirelessly towards a future where we have regained our sense of belonging in this world, in harmony with the land and the Earth we call our home.
Thank you for sharing my journey. Happy Equinox!
Heather Comina 