A Crunchy Life - February 2024 Newsletter
Think of this as a letter from a friend with a deeper look into this month's post. I share more thoughts and resources for tapping into a simple, intentional life filled with Earth-based practices.
Hello friends!
The February post is up and it is all about how February is when my new year begins. It doesn’t align to the calendar but it aligns to the seasonality I feel in the world. Maybe its because Imbolc falls at the beginning of the month and Imbolc to me is all about hope, renewal, awakening, emergence, days growing longer and warmer, first signs of spring.
Once Imbolc is behind, I feel the sensations most people express with New Year’s Day on January 1st — a fresh start, a new beginning, new opportunities, increased vibrancy, even goal setting, word for the year, etc.
The arrival of February begins my re-rooting into this sacred Earth. Reconnecting. Recommitting. Remembering. Re-rooting nourishes my flow, vitality, contentment, resilience, creativity, and provides opportunities to honor and steward the Earth and all she is.
Here’s a deeper look into how I am using my hand, head, and heart this month.
This month’s post talks about how I'm using my hand, head, and heart this month to welcome the awakening and emerging in the Earth and in me after the deepest of winter.
Here is what I am exploring this month.
Hand: Seeds.
During January I began dreaming about this year’s vegetable and herb garden. Looking at seed catalogues by the fire is very comforting to me during the dark, cold days of January. Now, that Imbolc has come it is time to take steps towards those garden dreams.
This month’s post talks about when to start seeds (Finding frost dates), how to start seeds (Starting Seeds Indoors), and four tips for starting seeds indoors. Starting seeds is practical as the seedlings will eventually make it into the garden and raised beds. Starting seeds is more than that though. It’s an act of hope, respect, connection, and meditation.
I am also taking some time to re-read and think about 7 Seeds to Start Your Day by Thor Hanson. You can also listen to Thor Hanson read it on Orion. I appreciate the straight forwardness of this piece. It gives the reader all the space necessary to contemplate seeds as life and also seeds as the basis of everything in our human-created world.
Head: Outside Journaling
This month’s post discussed the process I use for outside journaling, the same process I used with my students back in the 1990s. As I am working on my outside journal, I find myself drawn to reading about other people’s exploration of the land and waters where they live. I love reading about how real people look deeply into their real places. How they see the tiny details that manifest into their relationship with their land and its wildness. How they connect with the messy, not so easy to love spaces as well as the picturesque spaces. I appreciate the opportunity to see other places with real eyes, the eyes of those who live there and share their experiences and reflections.
I am currently reading Waterlog: A Swimmer’s Journey Through Britain by Roger Deakin. This book speaks to my love of water and my love of swimming. Along the way, Deaking describes the flora and fauna he comes into contact as he encounters new places to swim. His description of going to North Wales to the Rhinog Mountains to swim speaks to my imagination.
“I went to Wales because the place is stiff with magic, because the Rhinog Mountains are something like a wilderness where I would be free to wander like pipesmoke in a billiard room, and with the kind of apparently random purpose with which the laughing water dashes through the heather, rocks and peat….my only purpose was to get thoroughly lost; to disappear into the hills and tarns and miss my way home for as long as possible. (page 100).”
Deakin notices the tiniest of details —a brisk wind, Cambrian rock, Roman Steps, a buzzard flying over him, birds singing all around him, and caves “guarded by brambles, thistles, and foxgloves.” When he gives freedom to his descriptions, an image of wild place comes through so clearly:
“...slipped off a rock into the velvet deeps.”
“It was a verdant pear-shaped pool sheltered by a grassy bank to one side….”
“The immense shadow of the mountain rendered the water opaque and black.”
“We passed through an ancient grove of stunted oaks, the trees so encrusted with mosses and lichens, they looked like old cheeses left in the fridge for too long.”
“Every tree up here has a hollow the size and shape of a sheep, the roots exposed and polished by generations of them [sheep] hunkering down.”
Deakin’s journey takes him into wild places and into places whose wildness has been contained. He meets people who believe in restricting access to water and people who strive to continue experiencing water in ways their family has for generations, despite the current mindset they encounter. It is a book filled with hope, and encouragement to get out into our own wild places and to protect our waterways.
One of my favorite Instagramers is @seasaltandsarah. Sarah is an amazing wild swimmer in Orkney. She swims all year long in some of the coldest situations I can even imagine. I have been following her for years and when she released her book in 2020, I read it right away. Salt on My Skin is the authentic and honest story of how Sarah came to wild swimming and the lessons it taught her. Through this understanding it is clear why wild swimming is still so important to her.
Reading Waterlog brought me back to Sarah’s book. Together they inspire me to explore wild swimming where I am. Yet, it seems so much harder here. For now, I will continue my daily swims in the pool and prepare for an open water distance swim in September. But along the way, I will deep dive (yes, corny pun intended), into the feasibility of wild swimming in this place where I am.
Here’s a list of the Best Swimming Holes in All 50 States (created by USA Today Sports and Outdoors Wire). The one listed for Maryland is worth the trip.
Heart: Valentine’s Day.
As explained in this month’s post, for our family, Valentine’s Day is a time to celebrate the power of love. To celebrate marriage equality, civil unions, registered partnerships. To appreciate what St. Valentine risked in allowing marriages and encouraging the bonds of love. To celebrate all of the ways love shows up in the world — all the ways love shows up amongst humans, amongst more than humans, and between all in the web of life.
Our day will start with a yummy heart-shaped bundt cake and a cup of Chamomile Tea with Roses and Vanilla. The basic bundt recipe is only limited by one’s imagination. I use it for a Christmas Brunch Bundt Cake (use Christmas wreath bundt pan); 4th of July Bundt Cake (add 1/2 cup each of raspberries and blueberries to batter; fill center of cake with raspberries and blueberries when serving); and, for Valentine’s: Add 1 cup of raspberries to batter; use heart shaped bundt pan; fill center of heart with raspberries when serving.
Basic Bundt Cake
1.5 cups non-dairy milk
1/3 cup canola oil
1/3 cup unsweetened applesauce
2 tablespoons ground flax seed
1 tablespoon arrowroot
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 2/3 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
In a large bowl, whisk together the milk, canola oil, applesauce, ground flax seed, and arrowroot until it becomes foamy. Mix in the sugar and whisk until well combined, 30 seconds or so. Mix in the lemon zest and vanilla.
Sift in half of the flour, all of the baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Mix until well combined, and then add in the rest of the flour and mix until smooth.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 50 - 55 minutes. The top should be browned and puffed and firm to the touch. Let cool for 10 minutes, then invert on a cooling rack to cool completely. Enjoy!
Final thought for this month:
The Flower by Chelan Harkin
The flower never had a to-do list, not one day of her life. She just pointed her whole self toward light. The rest took care of itself.
Seeds don’t germinate on my timeline or because I want them to. They have their own timeline and goals. My role is to honor and steward the seeds through their growth so that they achieve success. Each day I spend quiet time tending to them, paying attention and looking at them with an eye toward curiosity. I notice the soil, how it feels, how it smells; I notice any growth, even as small as it may be; I talk to them and I listen. Its a meditative practice.
For the rest of this month, I will be like those seeds and those tiny signs of reemergence that are visible — the early flowers, heather blooms, pussywillow buds, and more. I will turn to the light, feel the sun on my skin, and the rest will take care of itself.
Love,
Karen