Living in a city in Middle England, our day to day lives
still shift with the seasons. The cold days send us seeking woolly jumpers hats
and gloves as we go outside to see our thoughts made visible as our breath appears; the rains call for
wellingtons and puddle jumping adventures in our local park; spring brings
different birds to our table and we search for bulbs, blossoms and buds, and
summer sends us waterside to see the life that flows with the beautiful river
that meanders her way through the heart of our city. These are the rhythms of
the environment, of the place we call home. Our activities shift accordingly,
from holding our energies within our four walls, to seed sowing, harvesting, to
creating and clearing space so that the cycle can begin once more.
With the earth as our guide, we feel connections and nourish
our sense of place, of time, of our community and of our people ~ our tribe. We
can witness miracles, new life in buds, the growth of seeds, the light reaching
longer into our days, then at harvest time, turning again to completion, death,
darkness, then renewal; and so it continues. Through noticing and being with
these rhythms, we learn of ourselves, our people and our earth.
In our family, the pages of a calendar turn quickly.
Projects, activities and dreams play their parts in equal measure with the more
challenging aspects of injuries, illness, death and birth. Daily work and
adventures fill our time, and as we notice the turning of the seasons we can
share the energies of the natural world, celebrate the beauty of its changes.
Perhaps we can also seek some respite from the stressful energies of modern
living in the depths of local woodlands, find comfort in turning the soil, and
feel peace in the stories of the stars. Maybe through being with the seasons in
this way we can really begin to know and
see each other too, in moments of stillness, awe and wonder.
The seasons are difficult to define and are ever shifting;
they are glorious, intricate, challenging and wonderful. Just when we think we
know what they are all about, they have a habit of changing. Seeking, exploring
and being in nature helps to keep us really looking at things in new ways; our
connections can give us a renewed sense of play and adventure that allow us to
share these wonders with our children.
If we slow down and allow ourselves to be with the seasons,
they in turn can slow us down too. In grounding ourselves in the earth’s ever
changing ways, maybe we can find our centre. We can be completely present, yet
lost in moments of delight; a frost encrusted spider’s web, a conker garnered
as a pocket treasure, a shell dancing beneath the flowing path of a wave, a
feather rising the wind. With these things we feed our souls and this is a
great gift to share with children, and can serve as a guide to help them to
find their own place in the world.
Connecting our families with the earth as it rides a course
around the sun for a year, leads us in the spin of a seasonal dance. In
Oxfordshire, the seasons are not always well defined, or extreme and different;
yet sometimes their subtleties reveal a beauty of their own. The pieces that
will follow are written with the landscape of my own family in mind, and the
celebration of the seasons in our own places is as unique as the places
themselves. When we bring our awareness to our own places, and we notice the
earth’s changes, we become aware of something larger than ourselves. We become
connected and we become humble too, at the splendour of the planet that we call
home.
Being in tune with the changes of the earth can connect us
and create catalysts for creativity, play, exploration and togetherness. In
sharing family time in this awareness we may get lost in the wonders of our
back garden, take joy in muddy puddles, and navigate our parks and woodlands
and other wild spaces with a renewed sense of adventure. May we find beauty and
the courage we need to be with the earth!
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