Salmon

Last week, as I sat by a river, I noticed tiny fish darting among the underwater rocks. They were young salmon, less than two inches long, exact replicas of their adult counterparts.

A thought crossed my mind. These small creatures were born alone and have no earthly parents to care for them and guide them. Intrigued, I went home and read about their lives.

I learned that after spending their first year in rivers and streams, the young salmon trek downstream to the Pacific Ocean where they remain for several years.

When the salmon are mature, they swim countless miles back upstream to their birthplace, where they spawn and fertilize eggs, and then die. Their voyage is daunting, filled with obstacles and challenges, yet they persist in order to bring forth the next generation.

I realized that with no earthly parents, these amazing creatures rely on their one true parent, the Earth, to nurture and guide them throughout their lives. The salmon listen to the whispers of Her sun, moon, wind, and water to know when to migrate to Her ocean, and when to return to their birthplace to spawn the new generation.

Salmon are incredible models for living…intuitive, determined, courageous, fully connected to the Spirit of the Earth.

I’m honored to share the planet with these amazing beings…

(New photos on website Gallery: wandernature.com/new-photos)

The Visit

In my mother’s later years, her mobility was limited by physical challenges. It was difficult for her to move from room to room in her home, let alone be physically active outdoors. Her health continued to decline, and she passed away.

My mother always loved birds. She filled her feeders each morning, rain or shine. Years ago, she shared with me that she would love to be a bird…free to go anywhere. She loved my stories about wandering in nature and expressed a longing to accompany me.

The other morning, this lovely dove was sitting in my back yard, softly cooing. The bird stayed for a long while. I like to think that my mother’s wish to move freely has been fulfilled, and she stopped by for a visit.

What a lovely surprise...

(New photos on website Gallery: wandernature.com/new-photos)

Time for Change

I live in a typical suburban neighborhood. I routinely mow my lawn, trim my bushes, and occasionally remove what we humans call weeds. My life, like my yard, is quite neat and orderly.

I marvel at the fact that the Earth isn’t neat and orderly at all, which is what I love most about Her. I love Her rawness, Her unpredictability, and Her complex wild beauty. She is always changing and unabashedly evolving.

So why can’t I be more like the Earth? I suspect I spend far too much time organizing and managing my days, rather than fully experiencing the rich, full life I’ve been graced to have.

I encountered a cormorant the other morning, wings outstretched, facing the sun, welcoming the day. No agenda, no expectations, living his life without considerations or limits, and letting the day’s events guide his actions. No day planner needed.

Perhaps it's time to make some changes...

(New photos on website Gallery:  wandernature.com/new-photos)