The Gingerbread House On Pleasant

08/10/2026

“Becoming a person of the plants is not a learning process, it is a remembering process. Somewhere in our ancestral line, there was someone that lived deeply connected to the Earth, the Elements, the Sun, Moon and Stars. That ancestor lives inside our DNA, dormant, unexpressed, waiting to be remembered and brought back to life to show us the true nature of our indigenous soul.” ~Sajah Popham. ~Artist Mandy Johnson

08/10/2026

Poem: Benediction for the Heavy Heart by Mason Bolton
Breathe. For yourself. For each other.

Good morning. I missed your “good”
because a plane, because a truck, because
a gun, because a cop, because a government,
because a people suffering, because too many
people suffering, because war, because famine,
because some mornings it is so hard
to rise, to wake, to be a self.

There is a pause here. There is a deliberate
cessation. I want a cessation to the noise
in my head, to the ache in the collective
heart of this world. When I was young
this seemed possible. When I was young
how hope seemed to spring eternal.

I want to write about butterflies, about
the cracked edges of tree bark pressing
like a holy mother into palms. I want to write
about the joy of children’s cries, about birth,
about the arch of your smile, how I could
lose myself in the corners of your
sweet and grinning mouth. This you is
you reading this. I want for your joy,
want to lose myself in you. I want your
mornings “good,” your evenings “good,”
all the late-nights and sunrises and afternoons
and moments pressed against the ticking
glass of your life “good.”

Breathe. For yourself. For each other. Let
us breathe in when others cannot. When we
can do nothing else. Let us stretch ourselves
open to embrace our friends, to extend
our bodies open to anyone willing to meet us,
or even to meet those we think may not. Let us
hold each other for this moment. For this
blink of human existence.

Artist, Abbott Handerson Thayer - "Landscape at Fontainebleau Forest

08/10/2026

08/08/2026

08/07/2026

"I would feel more optimistic about a bright future for man if he spent less time proving that he can outwit nature and more time tasting her sweetness and respecting her seniority" E.B. White
Artist - Sheila Estep

07/30/2026

"Summer, after all, is a time when wonderful things can happen to quiet people. Summer just opens the door and lets you out." - Deb Caletti

(artist: Bill Farnsworth)

07/28/2026

LAMMAS, THE FIRST HARVEST.

Across much of northern Europe, this was the time when the first grain was finally brought in from the fields. The long work of spring and early summer had become something tangible, bread on the table, seed for the coming year, and proof that the land had once again provided.

In Anglo Saxon England, the beginning of August became known as Hlāfmæsse, Loaf Mass, when a loaf baked from the first grain of the harvest was offered in thanks. Elsewhere across northern Europe, harvest festivals marked the same turning of the year. Though customs differed from place to place, the message remained remarkably similar, gather with gratitude, waste little, and remember that abundance is never guaranteed.

Even the woods seem to acknowledge the change.

The hedgerows begin to darken with blackberries. Hazelnuts swell beneath their green husks. The first hints of autumn linger quietly beneath summer's warmth. The days are still long, but the wheel has begun to turn.

Lammas reminds us that every harvest comes from patience. Nothing is gathered that was not first planted, tended, and given time to grow.

May your table be full enough to share. May your heart remain grateful. And may you always leave something for the birds, the beasts, and the seasons still to come.
-Woodlarking