Dear all Readers:
There have been a lot of comments on the FB author site about Wednesday’s post. Many people want me to bless the land to rid it of the darkness of the horrors that were done there. This is my response.
In my way, I am an elder.
As a Christian, I listen to God, the Divine, the Redeemer. But as a human I also listen to the earth, the Earth, the trees, and the land. Yes, I am a bit odd and a lot strange, as has been said to, and about, me for all of my life. (Looking at you, Clark Weeks, long passed, but still here.) I am a self described Christian / spiritual person / explorer of the nature of life. I believe universe has been partially explained by Einstein’s relativity theories to reflect an ongoing omnipresence. And I’m also a person who waits with baited breath for the next revelation about dark matter, which I see as the purposeful matter-creating-spirit of god. But this post is NOT about religion or my strangeness! It is about the Earth and the earth.
The small parcel of land that Hubs and I adopted called to me from the moment I saw it. Why? My grandfather’s name was carved into a poplar tree on the edge of the river. Not PawPaw’s legal name. Not my PawPaw. Nope. The carver had no idea who my grandfather was. The name carved on the poplar decades ago was LEO and he was *hearting* forever Connie. And if you look closely, there is a scary wood sprite face carved above his name.
Yeah. I named my mesmeric and ever changing (outclan priest) vampire after my gentle, caring, tender grandfather. Because of him Leo was my favorite name ever. You see how the fictional Leo grew and changed and turned out in the Jane Yellowrock series. My grandfather was the kind of man who made everyone around him better just by being there.
But the land was ours the moment Hubs and I saw that name.
And then we found the trash dumps (all 7) and the bones… We also found a silted-in spring head that needs to be dug out to see if it will begin to flow again. Tires everywhere. And even with the mess and the horror, the Earth and the earth were trying desperately to absorb the trash, dispel the darkness, and regrow. And then we found this massive tree that might be a tribal bent tree. It has a face like a dragon and a ruff of ferns like a frill on its head.
All land is best blessed by planting growing things (things not to be harvested) in soil that has been abused by humans. Blood sacrifice? There has been enough of that on this land. Planting is like an offering to the Earth, and is a command of the creator to care for and have dominion over (not to own, not to abuse) the earth. To me, restoring the land means cleaning the land, planting trees, and freeing the water that should flow through it.
We will plant one FireGlow maple tree (which arrived yesterday, see pic below) at the burial site and lots of native maples (already rooting in my writing room and in my front yard) all around. The land, there, which has been trying to heal, will renew.
IIsn’t it pretty!
The spirit of the darkness that was acted upon there …?
Oddly, this is not a problem. The moment the bones of the abused creatures were buried (without the plastic bags) and told to find peace, there was a feeling of release.
Here’s a pic of the truck hauling away one load of trash. Once the land is free from garbage, I will still bless the land with prayer and thanksgiving and white sage and water from the land in the native/Christian way of my soul. I will pray that god almighty (El), and the many breasted god (or the all sufficient one, {see your Old Testament} El Shaddai) will heal the land.
And I may plant some white sage. It’s a beautiful plant. I used to have some in the front yard of our home. I have a few white sage bundles in my jewelry-making drawer. But the land? It has purpose. Its purpose is to GROW. To LIVE. To fulfill its own destiny.
I am really, REALLY excited to see what will happen as the earth and the Earth heals.
Faith