When you are out on the river and plunge deep into the water, you may not know it, but I am with you. I am the water.
When you took your shovel and bucket to the field, I knew you would plant native milkweed for the Monarch caterpillars. I am the pollinator and the plant.
When you saved a squirrel and later released him with the help of a wildlife rehabilitator, made several piles of branches for cottontail rabbits to hide from predators, and dropped fruit leftovers in the woods for animals known to die of starvation and not just rabies, I knew that we are kinship. I am an animal.
When you walked barefoot across the grass to get to the field’s edge and didn’t mind the mud between your toes as you picked black raspberries, I sensed a desire to feel grounded and a hunger for wild things. I am the grass, soil, and fruit.
When you rode your bike in the rain, on purpose, I witnessed you laugh when the wind made your soaked-hair messy. I am the wind and rain.
When you were hot and needed cooling off, you sought a nearby oak tree for shade; and while there, you studied ants that climbed over and under the bark and noted the many mushrooms that grew at the base. I am the tree, insect, and fungi.
When your bones ached and walking grew hard, I saw your face turn to the sky to absorb the burning heat and glowing light for its health effects. I am the sun.
In truth, on your journey to connection, balance, and contentment, I am with you. I am in you. I am you.
Love,
Your Mother,
Nature
