Yesterday, I worked the garden soil and planted borage seeds — a bit early, but my homage to the May. A bit under the weather, I hiked around our property; we have four acres, mainly woodland.
Fallen trees — some axed by a surreptitious neighbor who, I suspect, was trying to make a clearing to attract deer. Small purple orchids. The thorns of newly-leafed raspberry bushes. The Pledge scent of lemon balm in the drainage field.
I live in an oak wood, but I noticed, then, the other trees — maple, their new leaves painted red. The sawtooth leaves of some variety of beech. Small white flowers underfoot.
This Beltane, I’m not drawn into human realms, but to the land itself. It calls, and I follow.