What happened to winter?

Weather changes are often a topic of conversation these days. No matter where we live, anyone who has had the privilege of having been around for a few decades or more can't help but notice that weather patterns are changing — seemingly at an accelerating rate. We don't need the warnings of meteorologists and scientists to verify that. However, their observations and statistics create an awareness that this is a global phenomenon.

Here in southern Ontario this winter has been punctuated by extremes and record-breaking warm temperatures. A lot of our weather has been coming from the southwest instead of the usual west and northwest. What was unusual about December was that it was more like a December from my childhood in the 60's. The temperature was a bit cooler than it has been in recent years and the most surprising thing was that we received a fair bit of snow. But then came January when our weather was more typical of March. During one extended warm period late in the month after all of the snow had melted, I saw a confused little sprout of Virginia waterleaf (Hydrophyllum virginianum) growing on the forest floor. This is definitely one of the earlier plants to emerge in the forests around our home, but typically it sprouts in the second week of April. The earliest I've ever seen it was at the end of the even warmer winter that we had in 20011/12 when it started sprouting on March 20th (yes, I keep track of these things!).

Near the end of January and over the first week of February winter briefly returned — as did the snow. That was great because Monika and I were on a 10 day holiday up on the Zaagiing (Bruce) Peninsula and were able to go snowshoeing every day except one when we had to abort our walk prematurely because of freezing rain.

Since our return the weather has been mostly more like what we would expect in April, with some record-breaking days where it hit the mid to high teens (high 50's to mid 60's in °F). Needless to say, the snow that we got at the beginning of the month quickly melted. The red-winged blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) — always the first birds to return to this region from their winter migration — arrived on February 20th. Typically they arrive with a thaw in mid March. The earliest I've ever recorded their arrival was March 5th after the very warm winter of 2012. Overall, the winter of 2011/12 was warmer than this one with temperatures staying fairly consistently above freezing, even at night. There was also virtually no precipitation that winter and, with the significantly higher than normal temperatures and no snow to melt, we were in drought conditions by the end of April. However, that winter we didn't get the more extreme high temperatures that we have had this year.

This kind of weather can have significant negative consequences for the local ecosystem. For instance, a rapid thaw or rain while the ground is still frozen prevents the moisture from being able to soak into the earth where it is needed and instead it runs off into creeks and rivers, sometimes causing flooding and significant erosion. On the flip side, if the temperature suddenly drops and there is no snow cover to insulate the ground the frost can harm plant roots, seeds and hibernating animals.

The sprouting and leafing out of plants is regulated by temperature and/or length of daylight, depending on the species. Those plants that respond primarily to temperature can be fooled into sprouting or leafing out prematurely. During the late winter of 2012 the trembling aspens (Populus tremuloides) — the first trees to flower and leaf out in our region — started flowering on March 11th and then a brief cold snap a week or so later wiped out their flowers. Typically they flower late March to mid April. This year the buds started opening on February 27th! It usually takes a week or two for the catkins to fully emerge and start flowering, depending on the temperature. As of today they were already about half open. The temperature is expected to drop significantly for a few days. That means that there will be few if any trembling aspen flowers this year.

Marsh marigolds (Caltha palustris) prematurely sprouting in the forest today.

We've always had at least one pair of eastern phoebes (Sayornis phoebe) nesting around our home. They are a constant presence on the landscape during the warmer months and I love their soft gentle calls. They are also one of our earliest arrivals. Typically, they show up somewhere between the very end of March and the end of the first week of April. Last year we had a couple of unusual warm periods at the beginning and middle of March. The red-wings arrived a bit earlier than usual and the phoebes arrived shortly after them in mid March. Phoebes feed almost exclusively on flying insects and I was a bit concerned about this. Sure enough, we had another cold snap that lasted more than a week. It killed off all of the early flying insects. The phoebes tried to survive by eating insects off the ground, but the the ground quickly froze. Sadly, our pair of phoebes died as a result. The constant presence of their calls was really missed last year. I hope a new pair moves in this year.

Today, when I was out on my daily walk through the fields and woodlands around our home it was about 13°C (55°F) and there was a gentle warm moist south wind. In the woods to the south of us there is a spot where water bubbles up through the soil from deep in the earth. There's an orange-red slime that forms there because of the high iron content of the ground water in this area. What characterizes this spot is that it is warmer than the surrounding soil because the water deep down is warmer than the surface during the colder months. Consequently, this spot is often thawed when the surrounding area is frozen and it is also the first spot where some of forest plants that like a lot of moisture sprout in the spring. Today the marsh marigolds started sprouting there. Typically, they start sprouting around the same time that the trembling aspens go into flower (late March to mid April), but in this spot they tend to sprout a week to ten days earlier — mid to late March.

As I was returning home this afternoon the wind started to shift from the south to the southwest and cool down a bit. It is expected to shift to the northwest later this evening and drop to around -7°C (19°F) — quite a drop! That is unfortunate for the trembling aspens and marsh marigolds.

What can we learn from this? These are warning signs that we ignore at our peril! Weather changes are a more obvious manifestation of what is happening all around us. The weather is very present and volatile, and speaks loudly. We all notice it, but it is so easy to return to status quo when things go back to what looks like "normal." What we have forgotten is what indigenous people have always known — life is about the quality of our relationships.

Healing is also about the quality of our relationships — with our self, our family, our community, our society, the plants and animals that we share this world with, the Earth, and Nature as a whole. The Anishinaabe word for medicine is mashkiki, which I have read literally means "strength of the earth." How appropriate! Everything is interconnected. The path of our personal healing necessitates that we work to bring back into balance all of our various layers of relationship. This requires humility, love, compassion, empathy, forgiveness and gratitude. With that comes wisdom. Blame, anger, confrontation and hopelessness are not the answer. They perpetuate the disharmony in the world and distract us from our real work — which is on ourselves.

We all have our personal story which has led us to this moment, but in our hearts we all have the same needs. Most of the land owners, corporate heads, politicians and other people who are "leaders" in our society have bought into a story that isn't real. What they need most is our prayers of love and healing, and positive example. As each of us does our best to live our life in a good way we create ripples through society and the world. We can change the world — by changing ourselves and moving in the world in balance and harmony — one step at a time!

Our many "elders" among the plant and animal people can help us to learn how to live in a good way

— if we listen!

Good Relationship and the Unfolding of Spring

I love every part of every season but I have to admit that for me at this time of year it reaches a whole other level as most of the living world reawakens from winter slumber. It begins very slowly at first, gradually accelerating into a symphony of living splendor!

One of the tragedies of our modern world is how cut off most us are from all of this. We are Nature and Nature is us. Connection to the world that we are part of is an essential human need that is not nurtured in modern society. This disconnect is the major reason why modern humanity is so out of balance in body, heart, mind and spirit. It is also why we hang on the edge of a global ecological catastrophe.

One of the fundamental characteristics of indigenous cultures is their connection to the Land where they live. They recognized that as human beings we are one strand of a web of connection and interdependence that includes the rocks, plants, animals, humans, landscape, weather and other beings that inhabit the Land where we live. This rootedness in the Land where we live is essential to who we are.

We can not erase our history. No matter who we are we all have indigenous roots. However, in the modern world very few of us live in the Land where our indigenous ancestors lived. Those who still do have often suffered the weakening or loss of their traditions under the onslaught of imperialist and modern cultures. Nevertheless, we all live somewhere. If we nourish our relationship with the Land where we live the Land and it's inhabitants will speak back to us. This is something that anyone who wishes to live a healthy, harmonious life must realize. Health is not about taking drugs or supplements or herbs. Nor is it about eating the right foods. Health is a state of being in right relationship with the World.

One of the things that traditional peoples know is that everything is interconnected. Whenever one person – human or other-than-human – or aspect of the World is out of balance it is all out of balance. Healing isn't just a personal journey.

We now live in a global society. This necessitates a global vision. It doesn't mean that we should stress out about all of the local and global challenges that we face as human beings. As individuals we can not save the world. What we can do is do our best to be in good relationship; listen to our heart; connect with our purpose; and play our part to the best of our ability. This process begins right here and now where we stand on our Earth Mother.

The Land in late winter.

One of the most important ways that we can bring our life back into balance and connect with the necessary strength and vision to play our part is by connecting with the Land where we live. Since most of us now live in urban and suburban areas this can be challenging – but it is not impossible! No matter where we live the Land is beneath our feet and the Sky above. No matter how much asphalt and concrete we lay on the Earth life comes bursting through. This journey can begin in our backyard, a local park or ravine, and whenever possible a larger park or conservation area in the surrounding rural landscape.

I live in an island of wilderness surrounded by the suburban sprawl of the Greater Toronto Area. It consists of 40 acres: 20 acres of woodland; 10 acres of open field; 10 acres of mixed transition areas. This island is surrounded by farm fields interlaced with hedgerows and here and there dotted with small woodlots. The surrounding area is itself an island that is rapidly being encroached by suburban sprawl.

I have lived here for 18+ years.  It takes many years to develop a relationship with the Land. Many years of watching, listening and being on the Land: day after day; season after season; year after year. It takes patience and diligence, but over time the Land gradually reveals more of herself. In the process my life is enriched and expanded and I come to know myself better and my place in the World.

Sasha on the Land.

Working together with the coyotes and deer we have made trails through this Land. Every day that I am not travelling I walk the Land. Some time in the mid to late afternoon when it's time to take a break from my work Sasha and I go for a 60-90 minute walk. While she roams around exploring the latest smells of the landscape I walk, look, listen, smell, feel, sit, contemplate, and make offerings of prayer and tobacco. To simply take from the Land is to be in imbalance. I must always give something back, whether it's prayers and tobacco or picking up a some garbage dragged into the woods by a raccoon that raided someone's garbage on the main road or blown in by the wind. I also sing songs and perform ceremonies to honour the Land and her cycles.

At this time of year, beginning around the time the coltsfoot (Tussilago fargara) goes into flower and the eastern phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) arrives, there is so much happening on the Land that I also take a walk in the early morning ­­– without Sasha so she doesn't scare off the birds and other animals. Initially it might only be for 30 minutes, but as spring goes into full swing it increases to 1-2 hours until late May when all of the birds have arrived, the leaf canopy has fully opened and the rate of change on the landscape starts to slow down. I do this to increase the likelihood that I'll see the various bird species when they arrive. I walk slowly a few steps at a time, stop, and scan the landscape for the movement of birds and animals in my peripheral vision. I always have a good pair of binoculars!

I also have my desk in a bay window that looks out over our yard so that I can regularly give my eyes a break from looking at a computer screen and gaze out to see what's going on. Many of my bird sightings occur from my desk. Of course, I always have my trusty binoculars close at hand!

Cooper's hawks (Accipiter cooperii) overwinter on the Land – unfortunately for the other birds that they eat!

This photo was taken from my desk through my front window.

Nurturing and deepening my relationship with the Land is essential for my health and well-being, and for my work as an herbalist and healer. As relaxing and healing as it is this is not leisure time. It is my life and my work. It took decades for me to create a life that supports who I am and what I do. It requires living simply: no chasing after material wealth; no smartphone; no social media. Anyone can do this. It requires commitment and clear priorities: nurturing what is really important in life rather than chasing after the innumerable distractions of our consumer society. This is where healing begins.

Developing a relationship with the Land where we live requires that we create space for it in our life. By listening to our heart we will find appropriate places on the landscape to walk and relate and be. Having a place to roam is important, but having a place to sit is even more important – even if it's just sitting under that old grandmother maple tree in our backyard. This is what, to anyone who is familiar with the teachings of Jon Young, Tom Brown and other teachers of Nature awareness, we call a sit spot. It is a safe place on the landscape where we feel called to be with the Land; where we can observe the unfolding of life through the seasons. I have many sit spots on the Land where I live and throughout the region in places that I regularly visit to be with the Land and to harvest medicines. However, although it's great to have a special place or places out in the country that we can visit once in awhile, it is most important to have a sit spot very close to where we live so that we can visit it often – at least a few times per week whenever possible. Here we can begin to sink our roots deep into the loving skin of our Earth Mother. Here we can begin to get to know the plants and animals that inhabit the Land that we live in: who is present through the seasons and how their lives unfold and intertwine.

Although any time will do, early spring is the one of the best times to begin this process of connecting. There's a lot of change happening, but it begins slowly, allowing us time to become acquainted with the landscape and it's inhabitants. Also, things are much easier to observe before the leaf canopy opens.

One of the useful methods that I have learned to help facilitate connecting with the Land where I live is to record everything. This is something that I had already been doing for years with the plants that I harvest for medicines. I needed to know this information so that I could anticipate when they would be ready to harvest from year to year. However, the community that I live in includes more than just the species I use as medicines.

During the first few years that I lived here I was constantly making a mental note of what was going on. I remembered a lot of it because I observed it every day. Then in 2005 I started recording the key changes that I observed: what birds stay or migrate here in the winter; when the species that fly south leave and return; which species nest here and which just pass through; when the various species of amphibians, reptiles and mammals that hibernate became active; which of the herbaceous plant species overwinter as a rosette; when the remaining species first sprout from the ground; when the woody species begin to leaf out; when each plant species goes into flower. This is a pretty left-brain activity but it force me to be more aware and hone my powers of observation. It also forced me to continually identify new species and learn more about them. Through this process and the other ways that I engage with the Land I can say that after 18 years I am finally beginning to know the Land – at least a little bit!

This year we had two uncharacteristically warm weeks at the beginning of March followed by a roller coaster of weather changes ranging from normal to 5-10 °C (9-18 °F) above normal. Consequently, the arrival of the various bird species started earlier than usual but is a bit more spaced out. Some plants are also ahead but they are coming out in short spurts with dormant breaks in between.

Common mullein (Verbascum thapsus) overwintering rosette.

As a result of the (for the most part) unusually warm weather the snow disappeared early and the plants that overwinter beneath the snow as a rosette were revealed earlier this year. These include many members of the Rose family such as our three species of avens (Geum spp.), our two species of wild strawberry (Fragaria spp.) and sulfur cinquefoil (Potentilla recta); a few members of the Mustard family such as shepherd's purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) and dame's rocket (Hesperis matronalis);  a few members of the Mint family such as motherwort (Leonurus cardiaca), ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea) and heal-all (Prunella vulgaris); a few species of aster (Symphyotrichum spp.) and other members of the Aster family such as yarrow (Achillea millefolium), rough-leaved goldenrod (Solidago patula), ox-eye daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare) and common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale); and a variety of others such as herb Robert (Geranium robertianum), ribwort plantain (Plantago lanceolata), sharp-lobed hepatica (Hepatica nobilis var. acuta), shinleaf (Pyrola elliptica), common speedwell (Veronica officinalis), foamflower (Tiarella cordifolia), red clover (Trifolium pratense), common mullein (Verbascum thapsus), sweet violet (Viola odorata) and large flower hairy willowherb (Epilobium hirsutum).

Everything else has been revealing itself in it's own time. Here's an example of the kind of information I have been collecting as spring has unfolded on the Land this year:

February 15: The overwintering American goldfinches (Carduelis tristis) began singing.

March 3: We had a winter storm on March 2nd. The first lone 'scouts' of the redwing blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) arrived today while it was still cold.

March 4: The temperature began rising rapidly. The first major flocks of redwings began arriving. The overwintering robins (Turdus migratorius) and northern cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) started singing.

March 6: The eastern chipmunks (Tamias striatus) began venturing out of their winter dens.

March 8: The honeybees (Apis mellifera) from a wild hive in a crack in an old grandmother white pine (Pinus strobus) started exploring the world. They have been flying about every day that it has been 12°C (54°F) or higher since then. I sure hope they have a lot of honey in that hive because it's going to be awhile before there is any nectar available for them to collect!

Common grackles (Quiscalus quiscula) often hang out in flocks with redwing blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) at this time of year.

March 9: The first common grackles (Quiscalus quiscula) began arriving with the later flocks of redwings. The first turkey vultures (Cathartes aura) also arrived. They will sometimes overwinter during very mild winters.

March 11: The catkin buds of trembling aspen (Populus tremuloides) started to open.

March 14: The silver maples (Acer saccharinum) started flowering.

March 15: The overwintering song sparrows (Melospiza melodia) began singing.

March 16: Cow parsnip (Heracleum maximum) started sprouting.

March 17: Wild leek (Allium tricoccum) and the trout lily (Erythronium americanum) infertile leaves started sprouting.

March 19-20: The spring equinox occurred at 12:31 am EDT on March 20th. In the late evening of March 19th into the early part of the 20th we had a ceremony to honour the equinox; give thanks for the blessings of winter; and welcome spring.

March 26: The overwintering northern flickers (Colaptes auratus) started thumping. Marsh marigold (Caltha palustris), common comfrey (Symphytum officinale), tansy (Tanacetum vulgare), cowslip (Primula veris), valerian (Valeriana officinalis) and stinging nettle (Urtica dioca ssp. gracilis) started sprouting. The latter species actually overwinters as a tiny embryonic plant. Today they started popping out of the soil.

March 27: Purple angelica (Angelica atropurpurea), blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides), bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) and the common horsetail (Equisetum arvense) fertile stalks started sprouting. Coltsfoot began flowering.

Purple angelica (Angelica atropurpurea) sprouting.

March 28: The common horsetail vegetative stalks started sprouting.

March 29: The first eastern phoebes (Sayornis phoebe) and golden-crowned kinglets (Regulus satrapa) arrived. The latter overwinter in this region but we don't see them on this Land until the ones who migrated further south start returning. The first mourning cloak butterflies (Nymphalis antiopa) also awoke and mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum) started sprouting.

March 30 (today): The first American tree sparrows (Spizella arborea) arrived. Like the golden-crowned kinglets this species also overwinters in the region but we don't see them until more of them start moving north in the spring. Trembling aspen and American elm (Ulmus americana) began flowering.

On March 28th I had the opportunity to welcome a great wind! Fortunately the local trees lost very few branches. While I was walking the Land the following day I found many branch tips from eastern cottonwood trees (Populus deltoides) heavily laden with swelling buds on the ground beneath the trees. A couple of years ago I felt called to begin working with the medicine of eastern cottonwood. At that time I made a small amount of tincture of the leaves to experiment with which I finally tried a couple of months ago. The buds of poplar trees are often used and I was wondering about the buds of eastern cottonwood. Unlike it's cousin the balsam poplar (P. balsamifera) which is a more shrubby species, the buds of eastern cottonwood are high up and out of reach. Anyone who is familiar with poplar species knows that they have a strong connection to the wind. What a blessing it was to receive this gift of both the cottonwoods and the wind! I made a couple of litres of tincture to start working with in the near future.

As you can see, there is so much to observe and experience all around us! I strongly encourage everyone to open up the space in their lives to deepen their relationship with it. It is one of the most important things that we can do on our healing journey. This summer I will be offering two different Spirit of Herbs workshops. These are my favourite workshops to teach because they are all about connecting to the plants and Nature. It is a great joy to be able to share this with those who are called to participate and even more so to be present as they are awakened to this awesome world that we live in! I used to offer these workshops in alternate years but in the last few years there have been more people yearning for this experience. I know that there are other teachers out there who are offering related teachings and similarly noticing the growing number of people who are yearning for deeper meaning and connection in their lives. Taking workshops is great and I highly recommend it, but beginning to nurture these relationships right here where we stand on the Earth is far more important – and spring is the best time to start!

Good Relationship

For those of us who live in the Northern Hemisphere, today is the first full day of spring! For me, the solstices and equinoxes are the closest thing to a "religious" holiday. I always take these days off as times for ceremony and reflection, both on my own and with the members of my community. They are important transition points in the yearly cycle of the seasons, and excellent times to honor our relationship with the world that we are part of.

Spring may be officially here, but spring weather will probably be later than usual this year!

This morning when I was out at my prayer circle offering my morning prayers, beginning for the first time this year in the eastern direction of this new season, twice I heard the call note of a male red-winged blackbird as one flew overhead. In this region red-wings are the first birds to arrive from wintering in the south. Hearing them for the first time on this first day of spring was a good omen that, in spite of the lingering below normal temperatures, spring is arriving. There are other signs as well. Among the birds that overwinter here, the cardinals and black-capped chickadees started singing their spring songs a couple of weeks ago. The robins started whinnying around the same time, but I only heard the first one singing this afternoon when I was walking my dogs in the woods. The song sparrows haven't started yet, but they will soon. The dark-eyed juncos are still here. They won't be heading back up north for some time yet.

The increasing intensity and amount of daylight as the sun climbs higher in the sky each day is another sign that is very noticeable. The greatest amount of change per day of the amount daylight occurs at the time of the equinoxes - three minutes per day at the latitude where I live. During the last couple of decades the red-wings have usually arrived much sooner than the equinox. After this years longer and colder winter their call is a welcome sound.

The trembling aspens (Populus tremuloides) are getting impatient!

In contemporary Western society we tend to live cut off from the natural rhythms and cycles of nature, both within us and around us. We do so at our own peril! Not only has it had an overwhelming negative impact on our physical, psychological, spiritual and social well-being, it has similarly affected the well-being of our Earth Mother and all of the other beings that we share our lives with. Our life is only as healthy and fulfilling as the quality of our relationships.

As an herbalist, it is essential that I am in a good relationship with the medicines that I use and the land where they live. My role is as a mediator between the medicines and Nature, and human society - both as a healer and as an educator. It would be awesome if we lived in a society where we are as time-rich as our ancestors, the traditional peoples of the world, once were. I could take people out and acquaint them with the medicines that they need so that they could be in a deeper relationship with those medicines. The healing would be so much more powerful! Sadly, this is not possible any longer.

That being said, for people who wish to live a life of greater health and well-being, and who also have an interest in herbs, getting to know some of the plant medicines even on a casual basis can be a powerful way to enrich our lives and enhance our healing process. It allows us an opportunity not only to create a deeper relationship with some of the plant people, but with all of Nature as well. Whether we are atheists or agnostics, or believe that the natural world is connected to or an expression of a deeper spiritual reality, we must acknowledge that all healing comes from Nature. Connecting with plant medicines and Nature are essentially two sides of the same coin when it comes to the healing process.

Some plants overwinter as a rosette. This European sweet violet (Viola odorata) is taking advantage of full sun

(in the winter only) and a slightly south facing slope.

Back in the late 80s and early 90s when I first started teaching, the Herbal Field Studies workshops (which were then called 'Herbs of Ontario') were the first courses that I offered. Teaching people how to identify local herbs during the various stages of their life cycle, harvest them and use them was a big part of what these workshops were and are about. However, my primary objective was to use the participants' interest in herbs as a means of getting them out into Nature. This is an essential part of the healing process because it is our disconnection from Nature that is directly and indirectly the main reason why people and society are unhealthy to begin with.

Eventually I knew I needed take it deeper and after experimenting with different content and formats The Spirit of Herbs workshops were born: first as a weekend, then six days, then eventually (in response to where I knew the Medicine needed to go and requests from students for more) I added two more workshops to the series. I consider these workshops to be the most important courses that I teach. For any herbalist, having a wealth of knowledge of herbs and a good system for applying that knowledge is essential - as is plenty of experience. Together they can produce profound healing. However, what separates the good herbalists from the great herbalists is the depth of their relationship with the medicines. This is not only true for herbalists, but for anyone who uses herbs personally or professionally. The deeper our relationship with the herbs and Nature, the deeper the healing we are able to receive or facilitate when we need to use them.

The Spirit of Herbs workshops are also my favorite courses to teach because they always stretch me. To teach the Medicine I have to be able to live it. It is always a powerful learning and transformative process for me having to hold the space for the benefit of the participants and offering the Medicine at a much deeper level. It is also a profoundly humbling and fulfilling experience for me to witness the transformations that the participants go through as they develop a greater capacity to connect more deeply with themselves, the plant medicines and Nature.

Grandmother white pine (Pinus strobus) is happy to enjoy some early spring sunshine!

I spend some time sitting with her every day when I walk my dogs.

In summary, I can not over-emphasize the importance of being in and connecting with Nature. It is essential to who we are because we are Nature and Nature is us. This is not only the experience and wisdom of traditional peoples worldwide, for those who need "proof" there is a growing body of research that is beginning to demonstrate it as well (for example, see: http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/05/100502080414.htm; http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/04/130422101303.htm; http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/01/140107093323.htm). What's amazing is that the benefits that are being demonstrated in these studies are the result of relatively simple things like more trees in urban areas, or spending a little time exercising or doing activities in more natural settings. Most people are still pretty distracted when they are in "greener" spaces: by their thoughts and by their technological gadgets. Add a certain level of quiet of our mind and deeper connection and the benefits increase exponentially!

The workshops that I offer provide an opportunity for participants to deepen their connection with Nature through their interest in medicinal plants. However, there are other teachers out there that offer similar experiences through other connections. For instance, in his recent book What the Robin Knows, Jon Young provides guidance about how we can foster a deeper connection with Nature through learning the language of birds. Whether it's birds or other animals, general nature awareness, or wilderness survival, there are teachers and mentors who truly walk their talk and from that place of experience and knowing are able to help others to more deeply connect with themselves and Nature by developing these skills in a way that fosters greater awareness and good relationships. Developing these personal interests is an excellent way to more deeply connect with Nature and live healthier, more fulfilling lives.

One of the most important tools for achieving this, which is explained in detail in Jon's book, is what we call the sit spot. It is simply a place in as natural a setting as possible where we intuitively feel good and can spend time sitting quietly and observing the world around us through the seasons. Although it's great for those of us who live in rural areas or on the edge of parks or other natural areas to find a sit spot that is in a more wild, natural environment, the most important characteristic of a good sit spot is its accessibility. The more effort we need to put into getting there, the less often we will use it. It's much better to find a nice spot under some trees in our backyard than some place that we need to walk or drive 20 minutes to visit, because the more often we use our spot, the deeper the results. Nature is everywhere! All we have to do is quiet our mind and be fully present with all of our senses. When we do this in the same spot on a regular basis, it provides a framework from which we can really get to know a place through its various cycles and changes. It is best if we can spend some time there at least several times per week. The more we make this a priority in our life, the greater the benefits. This season is a great time to start!

On that note, I would like to wish everyone a great spring (or great autumn to my sisters and brothers in the Southern Hemisphere)!