It had started raining on a more regular basis near Boston, so after a few days of warmer than usual weather, spring began to unfold step by step instead of all at once like last year.
The photos below will give you a sense for what I noticed in the last few days of April; new leaves, blossoms, greening undergrowth, and my Katsura maple larger than ever as it goes through its color changes at this time of year.
Hannah Regier with her “Color Harvest Moon” weaving. Photo by Jeff Klein.
This short documentary shares the world of Hannah Regier, who struck me as someone who truly lives by Japanese Tea ceremony’s core principles – Harmony, Respect, Purity and Tranquility.
I felt them in where and how Hannah lives, in the care she takes with her fabric art made using natural dyes gathered from the nearby fields and woods, as well as in her efforts to work with others to protect and share the lessons of natural places. There were other aspects of the the Way of Tea as well including creativity, generosity, and a deep appreciation for subtle aspects of the passing seasons.
Japanese tea ceremony was brought to its peak in times of war and great uncertainty. My trust in the worth of the art’s timeless values of harmony, respect, purity and tranquility provided a much appreciated anchor when things started to fall apart in my own life. But experiencing Hannah’s world made clear to me just how much those values can help to foster joy, connection and meaning, all of which are powerful antidotes to the helplessness and hopelessness it is all too easy to feel in these particularly challenging times.
Hannah Regier (her website), and videographer Jeff Klein (his website) both contributed their considerable artistic skills to this project. I am also most grateful for how Jeff Klein wove the sound of the stream behind Hannah’s studio throughout, an appropriate reminder of the importance of nature in the Way of Tea, in Hannah’s world, and, in fact, in all of our lives.
I like to look around the edges of Hills Pond when the ice is just forming or better yet, when it melts with warmer days and freezes again during the night.
Sure enough, there were crystal clusters and bubbles in the ice yesterday as well as a wonderful curving sculpture.
When I returned the next day, the mushy paths were lit by reflecting patches of ponding water. Snow on the pond had slumped into quilted softness, with all trace of the icy precision gone. I took solace in my knowledge that there is a regular rhythm to it, how the melting feeds the slow unfolding of green on our tilted panet.
Playgrounds, even lovely ones, can become unsafe with age. When that happened in Arlington, Massachusetts, funding was secured, and a design team met to plan a new playground at Robbins Farm Park that would work even for kids who might not be able to use ordinary playgrounds. In the end, many residents of Arlington contributed. That along with funding from the state, and a number of organizations made it possible for several musical instruments and other fun features to be included.
At the ribbon cutting ceremony, a mother explained that her child had a rare neurological disorder. He could play and communicate in nonverbal ways and clearly has a sense of humor, but there was only one “accessible” playground nearby that would work for him. One day, the mother heard her older boy explaining to the other kids that his younger brother could not walk or talk, but he could play.
When she checked a bit later, she saw the two of them happily playing with the other kids. This was good for her two boys, but it was also good for the other kids, helping them to see that disabilities need not be barriers to play, and hopefully, other forms of interaction as they got older.
In her role as consultant to the project, this mother made use of her intimate understanding of what works for her son to help make the playground truly accessible.
If you are in the area, please come and check our this new Robbins Farm playground on Eastern Avenue, opposite the Brattle elementary school in Arlington Heights, Massachusetts, USA with its multiple tactile and sensory delights.
Although lovely to view in the various seasons, the old playground had the swings taken out as they had become unsafe.
The start of the new playground project involved reshaping the slope where a long slide had been. I was glad they would replace that slide as it was well loved by the kids who used it.
The Ribbon Cutting Ceremony brought out quite a large crowd even though it was raining. The kids chanted “Cut the ribbon. Cut the ribbon,” and there was considerable noise and glee as they scrambled in to explore their new playground.
And a few days later, there were fewer people. It will be interesting to see how it settles in, how the kids use the playground’s various features, and how the new plantings look in the spring.
The crisp fall air, crunching pine needles, and subtly pervasive fragrance all sparked a powerful wellbeing. Lingering concerns about the latest round of bad morning news did not stand a chance.
And I noticed that this particular glorious day did not hold even a hint of the sadness that autumn can bring. Yes nothing lasts, but that day there was no choice but to join in the dance and to forget all that.
The being alive, just that, and never alone, but held by it all.
Walking along the path toward the pond in Menotomy Rocks Park, ArIington, Massachusetts, USA. I caught a glimpse of orange patches. Coming closer I saw Chicken of the woods mushrooms trooping down a fallen trunk.
There were maple leaves on the ground in that area, with none of the expected oak. Perhaps the nutritious sap of a sugar maple was supporting such an abundant display.
Over several days, I returned to view this spectacle in different lights as the shapes changed and the colors began to fade.
And here is how some of them looked after a dry winter:
Although areas nearby have gotton considerable rain, where I live in Arlington, Massachusetts, USA, we had a whole month of unrelenting dryness. This year there is nothing like the diverse abundance I saw around this time in 2021. Still there were some notable mushrooms popping up here and there. Evidently Chicken of the Woods and Jack O Lanterns produce fruiting bodies even when it is dry.
I did come across some interesting slime molds. Those are included as the last photos below.
I wasn’t looking for them – too early in the season, but these mushrooms could not be missed. They were orange and not just a quiet subtle orange either.
They looked a bit melted in places like what happens with some kinds of soft cookies when they are baking. Note: Don’t eat these Jack O Lantern mushrooms, they are poisonous.
A few days later, the caps had flattened out, and gotten larger with their edges turned up. And additional clumps were growing at the base of the oak.
Evidently these mushrooms are a bit bioluminescent. I went out around 5 am to see if I could capture their pale green glow with my small camera, but perhaps there was too much light as the sky was already beginning to brighten.
A recent encounter with a turtle had me thinking about the fact that many humans walk around with our own invisible protective armor. It is not uncommon for us to pull back rather than risk revealing feelings that might be unacceptable to others or ourselves. And we sometimes carry around quite burdensome assumptions and identities in our efforts to stay safe. My actual encounters with turtles were quite a different story.
The first photo below shows a Russian Tortoise I met at a friend’s house. This venerable fellow seemed as curious about me as I was about him. He would surely have great stories to tell, and he seemed very happy in his luxurious and large terrarium home.
More recently, I came across a snapping turtle who seemed to be digging a nest for her eggs by the pond in Menotomy Rocks Park, Arlington, Massachusetts, USA. There were a number of people circling with their eager dog charges. I felt protective. I spoke to the turtle telling her that I was a friend and wished her well. She paused her insistent digging and looked up at me. It felt like a moment of genuine connection.
A few years ago, someone pointed out a dead turtle floating in the pond. I shared the photo of that turle with some experts and one suggested that it was a rare northern red bellied cooter. As requested, I sent in a report with the date, location and photo to those tracking rare species sitings in my state, and they told me it was actually a red-eared slider which is considered invasive and is not native to Massachusetts.
It is clear to me that I am not the only one who feels increasing awe and wonder at how much we can relate to, feel with and even communicate with other species but it is also quite sad that this growing awareness is happening at a time when so many species, including our own, are at risk.
I love how these tiny plants create a soft carpet in shady places, but sometimes in sun as well. It seems natural to want to reach down and pet them. They also can help us achieve relaxed moods as in this dreamy video created by Jeffrey Klein. The Andante section of a recording of J. S. Bach’s Sonata #5 played by Jeffrey Brody on piano and Andrea Hart on flute (and used with their permission) is a perfect complement to the moss images.
Mosses are often used in Japanese gardens for good reason, and it is a delight to come across them growing wild in a natural setting.
With all the rain lately, moss has been happily spreading in my garden. I was delighted when the tiny plants decided to form a soft green carpet where guests gather on my patio before sharing tea. In Menotomy Rocks Park, moss adorns the forest floor, the bases of living trees, fallen logs and even high up on rocky outcrops. Photos of moss in both settings are included below.
Radiant Refuge 