My intention for this Deep Ecology Fellowship was – to be still enough to listen. To listen to the whispers of the landscape and the songs of the beings that opened to me. The River. The Roots. The Rocks. The People. The Plants. The Pond. Might you…wherever you are, dear reader…might you fi nd that deep stillness in your days to receive those echoes. I offer one of those murmurings that bubbled to the surface during my time at United Plant Savers.
The residency was a short yet potent experience. Near the end, my senses were as wide as I had walked. Chronos gave way to Kairos, and the rhythms of a living landscape settled into my bones. Giant Puffball mushrooms ballooned and collapsed, sweet water appeared in the creek, and coyotes beckoned the night. Black haw berries shriveled, thistles released their downy seeds to the gold dipped meadow, and native plants sent their energy down into their roots before the arrival of the first freeze.
On one of my walks, I found myself at the feet of a withering Black Cohosh, a plant widely called upon as a support to those leaving their fertile years. This photo was taken in my backyard in Spring just as she began to bud. Summer’s blooms waiting in the wings. The sacred codes of transition from maiden to mother to crone enshrined in her body.
Towards the end of my Deep Ecology Fellowship, I was invited to pour medicine at Equinox Botanicals Apothecary in Rutland. Many days of serene solitude lended themselves to deep listening and creative output, but I was missing human company. So it was a welcome change to be in the midst of wonderful humans doing wonderful work. We were pouring Golden Salve, the beloved first-aid salve that includes an unctuous blend of oils infused with sustainably harvested forest grown goldenseal (Hydrastis canadensis) root, comfrey (Symphytum officiale) root, yellow dock (Rumex crispus) root, calendula (Calendula officinalis) flower, propolis (Resina propoli), and balm of Gilead (Populus balsamifera) bud. It was a full sensory event and by the time we wrapped up, I felt as though I’d been swimming in herbs.
When I got back to the sanctuary, I sat next to the meadow to take in the low angled rays of the setting Autumn sun. I found myself wishing I could preserve the moment somehow. Maybe it was the Golden Salve still seeping into my skin, or the poignancy of a sunset, or the hum of crickets inducing a trance state, but I picked up my notebook and a song flowed out of me…
A vision of a citrine, glowing, orb descended the stem of a shriveling goldenseal plant and disappeared beneath the duff…
Zoë Louise is an Ohioan with a deep love for native plants and folk song. The Lone Hawthorn project documents her return to the old ways of singing with the Land to share the stories of people and place. Other fruits of this project are on her Substack, lonehawthorn.substack.com
