“The world we live in is a holy place, and our task is to remember this and to cultivate a growing awareness of the ways in which forest and hills can inspire a sense of sanctuary in our hearts.”—Christine V. Paintner

— Opening reading chosen and read by Amy W.

— Photos by Ingrid

One With

Even a single blade of grass 

can become sanctuary.

Dew drops cling to its slender strength,

balance at its tip, dangle

in the sway of March,

wait their turn to

surrender into becoming

one with air,

Or, they drop, nourish,

the ground that gives rise

to those blades which await

tomorrow’s guests.

Aardvark Tracks

About 40 years ago in the spring, a friend and I were walking through KY woods, and he pointed to the ground.  “Look, Aardvark tracks,” he said, pointing to small clumps of violets growing in the grass.  I laughed.  But the naming stuck with me.  So today walking through Brookgreen, I spotted my first Aardvark tracks near the labyrinth, and I smiled big.  They were growing generously through the grass.  I came home and researched online about this animal, curious as to why my friend renamed the violets those years ago.  “These nocturnal animals are not native to the US, are rare to spot—they are usually found at night during the south African winters. In the African culture, they are a symbol of strength and resilience, and anyone fortunate enough to see one is said to be blessed.”  Although we are blessed with an abundance of these native flowers blooming during the daytime, I am glad to now know that every time I see them I am reminded of nature’s strength and resilience.  And my own.  And what a blessing it is to find them!

— Photos, poem and reflection by Amy W.

As I began my walk I quickly became annoyed by the loud sound of the leaf blower in the gardens. But as I walked on I realized that I must try to find a sense of sanctuary in my heart, even within the noise and chaos. Buds were emerging… petals floating gently to the ground… finding sanctuary within the garden noise. The leaf blower stopped as I walked on a little longer… allowing me to sink deeper in to the sanctuary and be grateful for the quiet.

— Photos and reflection by Nancy L.