Lovely to meet kindred spirits who know nature as brethren. Thank you for sharing, "Ontopoetic", that explains what I write about, too. Cheers from Wildlands!
I’m so delighted to read these stories! Many years ago, I founded a small neighborhood-based land trust to preserve the headwaters of a tiny creek that ran through our neighborhood in Oakland, California. It was an impossible task—buying and preserving properties at Bay Area land prices. But miracles kept happening. So we acquired our first parcel and held a dedication ceremony in the little forested canyon that held the creek. So here we are, a couple dozen people, including a Bay Area news team, on a usually quiet, empty street. And here comes a doe browsing her way through the canyon toward us, and she stops just a short distance away from this large group of people, and she stands there, and she watches us. Just stands there, quiet. I will never forget it. It was a holy moment. A moment of holy connection. I tell the story of Peralta Creek in Kissed by a Fox. The whole preservation process changed me, helped me to see that we humans are not alone. When we set out to do something good for the Earth, the other creatures join in. They lend their own powers. And it looks like miracles.
Exactly! Through those long months of preservation work I felt that we were being supported by the water, the wildflowers, the trees—the whole riparian corridor. Water knows.
Most times when I'm working in the garden in the compost-heap zone a robin comes to visit. I recognised one regular visitor, then a different one the following year.
I am all in on ontopoetics, and glad to have a name for what I so often experience. Thank you. I look forward to exploring the work of these writers.
Lovely to meet kindred spirits who know nature as brethren. Thank you for sharing, "Ontopoetic", that explains what I write about, too. Cheers from Wildlands!
Thank you for this! I have experienced similar phenomena around fish and waterfowl and wondered about where to look to others experiences.
I’m so delighted to read these stories! Many years ago, I founded a small neighborhood-based land trust to preserve the headwaters of a tiny creek that ran through our neighborhood in Oakland, California. It was an impossible task—buying and preserving properties at Bay Area land prices. But miracles kept happening. So we acquired our first parcel and held a dedication ceremony in the little forested canyon that held the creek. So here we are, a couple dozen people, including a Bay Area news team, on a usually quiet, empty street. And here comes a doe browsing her way through the canyon toward us, and she stops just a short distance away from this large group of people, and she stands there, and she watches us. Just stands there, quiet. I will never forget it. It was a holy moment. A moment of holy connection. I tell the story of Peralta Creek in Kissed by a Fox. The whole preservation process changed me, helped me to see that we humans are not alone. When we set out to do something good for the Earth, the other creatures join in. They lend their own powers. And it looks like miracles.
Lovely to have your story in response to ours. And not only animals.
I visit one of my co-inquiry friends in Cornwall and we went to his spot on River
We did a little ceremony of songs and offerings. David writes:
We are a congregation jointly in the presence of River.
We sing the river is flowing and we speak words of honour and gratitude and respect.
Together, we make offerings, give our song and speak praise to River
In the moment as we finish there is a sudden short shower; the only rain we will feel all day
Surely a response from the sky. It lasts less than 10 seconds. Then just as suddenly it’s gone
An ontopoetic reply from the sky water to the earth water?
Peter and I look at each other…. astonished
Exactly! Through those long months of preservation work I felt that we were being supported by the water, the wildflowers, the trees—the whole riparian corridor. Water knows.
Most times when I'm working in the garden in the compost-heap zone a robin comes to visit. I recognised one regular visitor, then a different one the following year.