We are beginning to slowly….very slowly, settle in to our new home. Among the many things I’m learning as a beach mama, like sand gets in EVERYTHING, is how time seems to move a bit more slowly here. There’s no running to the store for something you forgot, it’s a twenty minute round trip, just for the driving. And once you arrive at the store, well folks just don’t move quite as fast so you have to figure in a little more time for the walk around the store. The island is still waking up to spring and coming from the end of springtime in the desert, I’m finding myself feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland…nothing is what it is because everything is what it isn’t. And that, after all, is precisely what we asked for.
We discovered poison hemlock in our marsh the other day. A place that has given us so much joy the moment we arrived. So full of abundant green medicine, rich animal friends, and a lush living painting to stare off into. The discovery of this delicate little plant, who’s fresh parsley scent has opened all my senses, has me thinking a lot about how to really appreciate the medicine. Walking into such verdant surroundings, I was quick to grab my basket and shears and snatch up all I could carry. There is so much, and I am like a kid in a candy store. And there is so much I have to learn, I am impatient with my knowledge and understanding of the nature here. However, meeting this hemlock has reminded me to slow a bit, take the time to appreciate and revere these gifts and perhaps, work with only one plant at a time. I’m committing to really get to know it well, the entire landscape upon which it lives, and to remember there is plenty of time to discover.
It’s changing us, even with our highly developed habits of moving fast and running through our days. Missing the usual conveniences of city/suburban life, we are required to be more creative than usual as well as give up on some of the things we’ve become accustomed to so we can make room for what’s new. It’s a transition and being patient as it unfolds is harder than I thought it would be. I want to be as proficient as we were when we left the desert, but I don’t want to rush the exploration of this place. Thankfully, island time won’t have it any other way. So, I am learning to sit and wait and observe before taking action. It is both frustrating and expanding me. We came here to plant our roots and grow, I just have to remember it takes a full year of seasons to develop healthy soil.