Blog

First Signs of Spring and Tending My Inner Spring

First Signs of Spring, Salt Lake ©Lynne Buchanan

When I was in Salt Lake City last week, the first signs of spring were in the foothills.  I went on a lovely hike with my cousin and his family and saw all the new growth on the trees, while in the background the mountains were still capped with snow, albeit a lot less than is desirable.  The drought and lack of snow pack will likely create water shortages soon.  Still, for the moment, the newly burgeoning leaves bespoke hope and regeneration and all the miracles of rebirth that are experienced everywhere in nature this time of year.  My heart always expands in the presence of unbounded life like this, where nature makes no apologies for displaying the energy that creates delicate yellow green leaves, all in full color amid soft and welcoming light.  Just being in the presence of such vibrant trees makes me want to put down my own protective armor and live fully in the moment.

Rocks with Lichen ©Lynne Buchanan
On the way down, we came to this beautiful spot with a pile or rocks in brilliant hues painted by the lichen.  Organic forces combined with the elements to create a masterpiece unimaginable to me until I saw it with my own eyes.  The textures were so inviting and I loved how the shape of the pile echoed the foothills in the background.  Nature paints such beautiful canvases and it is such an honor to stumble upon them.  Sometimes I just want to run from place to place taking it all in, finding sacredness everywhere I look and celebrating it through my awareness and the images I make, either within my own mind or through the lens.  

Other times, I feel as if I need to draw in again.  The act of shining out our energy and intentions to heal the earth and allowing ourselves to be expanded by her must be balanced by contracting and getting in touch with our own inner springs of inspiration and healing.

Inner Spring, Kanapaha ©Lynne Buchanan
For me, today was a day of connecting within.  After so much travel and work and all the arid climates I have been in, I was finally home in my own swampy jungle.  I took my beloved Takoda to Kanapaha Botanical Gardens, intelligent dog that he is this is one of his favorite places.  In lots of areas the sun was a bit too bright and forceful on my eyes, which preferred to be half closed and meditative today.  It suddenly dawned on me that what I needed was to connect with the little zen waterfall by the bridge. Watching it trickle from rock to rock made me think of the inner reservoir of energy within me.  It doesn't always have to be a raging fire, even if I am an Aries,  but there is always passion for my purpose and for connecting with others who understand the value of nature–how she teaches us how to turn two into one, flow around obstacles, wash away pain, and provide the movement that allows for transformation.  The quietude and serenity made my puppy and I so happy, as we sat on the smooth, cool rocks and listened to the gentle trickle.  The water enlivened the scene and brought life into the hardened places in my heart, the spots that haven't been allowed to feel because they lacked on object.  For a moment I loved water, and it was enough.  I said a silent prayer to keep the spring and rivers flowing, within and without.