Jeanne, Thank you! You are, and I'm honored. Also, I just responded to your email with the wonderful "ask." Many blessings to you for what you do, both here and with your nature therapy clients.
Susan..Thank you, as always, for writing so beautifully what I often feel in my heart but can't express. The world seems so hostile and ugly, and I usually retreat to the hills and my gardens to ground again. But this year, between the heat, drought, and an epic infestation of grasshoppers, my beloved spaces are suffering. No peppers, lettuce, zucchini, beans...wildflowers were scarce, my old cottonwoods had little cotton production. But, tired of my own gloom, I started looking closely at what I DID have. It is a smorgasbord for native pollinators! The blooms are small, everything was late, but the bumblebees, tiny wasps, native bees, and a cloud of little brown butterflies are happy and feasting on the perennials I have packed water to all season. The birds that did manage to raise babies have a full larder of hoppers right at their feet. The sunsets have been amazing. Terraphilia. It requires some mind adjusting, and the knowing that, though things might not have completely gone as wished, many other little beings that share my space are happy and thriving, their lives and beauty an enrichment to my own life, and I am so grateful for it all.
Barbara, You have so clearly expressed the grief that comes with opening our hearts to the world in a time of suffering (whether that's drought and grasshoppers, or starvation in Gaza and ugliness at home). And yet, as you discovered, there is still wonder and beauty to be found, even though it doesn't appear the way we expected. Practicing trraphilia does indeed involve some mental adjusting, and a shift in our expectations. Life is biased to thrive, no matter the conditions. We just have to open our minds and hearts to the understanding that the thriving doesn't happen on our terms; it happens on life's terms. Bless you for doing just that!
Phyllis, I agree. I think practicing terraphilia could be what saves us--all of us, and our planet. Life, as in the living web of beings who animate this planet, has so much to teach us about being human and healing ourselves and this Earth.
Well, dear Susan, I bet I speak for everyone who reads this wonderful substack when I say: WE ARE GRATEFUL TO YOU AND APPRECIATE YOU!! Thank you for this wonderful installment. XOXOXO
" I think of this newsletter as my ministry of inspiration and active hope." I think of your newsletter like this too. I have long thought all of the answers to life's deep questions can be found in nature. The way that you've described your practice here, inspires (again) me, Susan. You give hope during these difficult times. I'm so grateful that you're in my life.
Stephanie, Thank you. I so admire your ability to go deep with your writing and speaking, to use our myths and symbols to illuminate our lives. You inspire me too. Hugs and blessings to you as we navigate this turbulent and painful times.
I love the idea and practice of terraphilia. Thank you for this intriguing look into your life, and for all you do in engaging us with your lovely writings. I looked at the books you've written, which is not only impressive, but there are several I plan on ordering. Also, I've not heard of the sacred datura; what a beautiful contradiction she is. For about 20 years I lived near Bozeman, MT and used to visit Yellowstone Park often. My favorite time of year to go there was in the fall, after Labor Day when most of the visitors were gone. The colors were magnificent, the air piercingly clear and crisp, the elk were bugling everywhere and moving around so were much easier to see. Chance sightings of grizzly and wolves were an added bonus.
Jenny, how wonderful that you lived outside Bozeman and could visit Yellowstone often! My favorite time to be in the Park is fall too. It's just gorgeous weather and the crowds have thinned (less so now than it used to be, but it's still a lower human presence). And the elk bugling, so a wonderfully eerie call! I lived at Mammoth Hot Springs, right across from the old parade ground, years ago when I first worked in the park. When I go back as a volunteer "weed warrior" in summer now, I'm based out of Mammoth. I love the Northern Range with its sagebrush and meadows, the peaks and ridges and canyons. It's my heart's home.
Yes, the Northern Range has a unique essence; I know of what you speak and feel. How neat that you lived at Mammoth. A beautiful area and the stone buildings are neat as well. Thank you for being a weed warrior! Noxious weeds are a serious threat and take over so quickly.
Thank you! I loved this essay. So engaging and well crafted. Not only does it delve into the physical aspects of being in Yellowstone pulling weeds, it also is all about your emotional connection. Since I consider sage brush my spirit plant and sage brush country my place, I especially enjoyed reading about her.
Pulling weeds is arduous, yet crucial. If everyone who went on public lands pulled a few weeds each time, it would help immensely. Although, a person needs to be able to identify them, and as you note, some are toxic, like houndstongue and need to be handled appropriately. For years on my family's ranch, my sister and I spent several weeks each summer on weed duty. Dad preferred to use herbicides for several reasons. So we clambered around rough country lugging hand sprayers and zapping leafy spurge, houndstongue and the occasional knapweed. I hated being around the herbicide and we were as careful as we could be in only getting it on the weeds. Because we moved slower while looking for weeds and went in areas of the ranch we did not normally, we would see lots of things. Like dove nests, either with a single egg or a single delicate tiny dove. Mule deer fawns just born, like you got to see. Mule deer bucks, their antlers in velvet. Coyotes and their pups. Nests of other ground dwelling birds. Does threatening us to protect their fawns. One year we were chased by a black Angus bull😬. Even though I hated the herbicide, the time on the land was irreplaceable.
Tentatively, here is a link to a 100 word story I wrote about sage brush. Thank you again for sending your essay☺️
Oh, what wonderful memories of your time on your family ranch! It's true that one of the benefits of hand-killing weeds is the time spent on the land and the sights seen and heard and smelled. Even while lugging sprayers. My backpack sprayer is my companion on the ranch in Wyoming when I'm working with the hoary cress, and now I only fill it halfway because I can't easily lug 28 pounds of sloshing herbicide up steep hills anymore. I hand-weed as much as possible, and I cherish the intimacy that brings with the community of the land, even while I recognize I am killing some plants in preference for others.
Your hundred-word sagebrush piece is gorgeously evocative. I could feel you as a baby rolling around under the silver-green shrub, crushing dried leaves, smelling the unique aroma. Lovely!
Thank you, Susan, for reading my 100 word story about sage brush. I feel a little less guilty about zapping weeds with herbicide now that I know you do also. The sprayers ARE awkward and heavy to lug around, especially in rough country. It would always break my heart when I came across a patch of leafy spurge growing amongst young fir trees, or any other trees. I would pull and pull, but as we know, leafy spurge has a vast underground rhizome and is devilishly hard to kill by weeding. Nonetheless, I'd pull them in hopes of slowing down future growth. I guess we do the best we can in each circumstance.
I can’t wait to read your new book. I’ve read your others and you give me hope and inspiration! I just started reading “Half Earth”, trying to do everything I can to help our planet. I applaud you for all you do. Thank you!
Cherie, E.O. Wilson's Half Earth is cogent argument for conserving as best we can the living communities of this planet. I the book gives you ideas for what you can do. I think of conservation and restoration as beginning at home, with our yards and gardens and neighborhood spaces. Re-thinking our landscaping aesthetic to embrace local native plants and the relationships they weave is part of becoming at home in the places where we live. And thank you for the lovely compliment. :) Blessings!
Thank you so much, Emily. I am a slow writer, so heaven knows how long it will take me to finish it, and then comes finding a publisher. So don't hold your breath.... :)
Thanks Susan for another inspiring piece -- Remember that old Jack Nicholson line, "you make me want to be a better man?" I'm changing it to this: Susan, you make me want to be a better person. That's a gift and it's grace. Thank you. I love reading your stuff.
I do remember that line, and I think it's in a popular song too. (But I can't remember who sings it thanks to my aging brain!) Honestly though, I don't think any of us need to be "better" people, just more fully and generously our own amazing selves. You especially bring so much to the world with your rich understanding of humans and our stories and myths and the heart/spirit wisdom we carry within. Many blessings!
Always wonderful. Always enriching. Thank you, Susan for a look at your life and heart.
Cheryl, thank you for taking the time to read and comment! Many blessings to you.
And a transformative ministry it is indeed! Thank you!
Thank you, Kathryn. That's an especially meaningful compliment coming from you, a minister. Blessings!
Just upgraded to paid; I hope I'm your #100! Thank you for what you do, what you write, how you live, and how you share it with all of us.
Jeanne, Thank you! You are, and I'm honored. Also, I just responded to your email with the wonderful "ask." Many blessings to you for what you do, both here and with your nature therapy clients.
Susan..Thank you, as always, for writing so beautifully what I often feel in my heart but can't express. The world seems so hostile and ugly, and I usually retreat to the hills and my gardens to ground again. But this year, between the heat, drought, and an epic infestation of grasshoppers, my beloved spaces are suffering. No peppers, lettuce, zucchini, beans...wildflowers were scarce, my old cottonwoods had little cotton production. But, tired of my own gloom, I started looking closely at what I DID have. It is a smorgasbord for native pollinators! The blooms are small, everything was late, but the bumblebees, tiny wasps, native bees, and a cloud of little brown butterflies are happy and feasting on the perennials I have packed water to all season. The birds that did manage to raise babies have a full larder of hoppers right at their feet. The sunsets have been amazing. Terraphilia. It requires some mind adjusting, and the knowing that, though things might not have completely gone as wished, many other little beings that share my space are happy and thriving, their lives and beauty an enrichment to my own life, and I am so grateful for it all.
Barbara, You have so clearly expressed the grief that comes with opening our hearts to the world in a time of suffering (whether that's drought and grasshoppers, or starvation in Gaza and ugliness at home). And yet, as you discovered, there is still wonder and beauty to be found, even though it doesn't appear the way we expected. Practicing trraphilia does indeed involve some mental adjusting, and a shift in our expectations. Life is biased to thrive, no matter the conditions. We just have to open our minds and hearts to the understanding that the thriving doesn't happen on our terms; it happens on life's terms. Bless you for doing just that!
Practicing terraphilia may be the most important practice of our time. Thank you for sharing your love of life and the planet.
Phyllis, I agree. I think practicing terraphilia could be what saves us--all of us, and our planet. Life, as in the living web of beings who animate this planet, has so much to teach us about being human and healing ourselves and this Earth.
Well, dear Susan, I bet I speak for everyone who reads this wonderful substack when I say: WE ARE GRATEFUL TO YOU AND APPRECIATE YOU!! Thank you for this wonderful installment. XOXOXO
Thank you, Liz, for loving and promoting my work. I am fortunate to have your support. Hugs and blessings to you. :)
" I think of this newsletter as my ministry of inspiration and active hope." I think of your newsletter like this too. I have long thought all of the answers to life's deep questions can be found in nature. The way that you've described your practice here, inspires (again) me, Susan. You give hope during these difficult times. I'm so grateful that you're in my life.
Stephanie, Thank you. I so admire your ability to go deep with your writing and speaking, to use our myths and symbols to illuminate our lives. You inspire me too. Hugs and blessings to you as we navigate this turbulent and painful times.
I love the idea and practice of terraphilia. Thank you for this intriguing look into your life, and for all you do in engaging us with your lovely writings. I looked at the books you've written, which is not only impressive, but there are several I plan on ordering. Also, I've not heard of the sacred datura; what a beautiful contradiction she is. For about 20 years I lived near Bozeman, MT and used to visit Yellowstone Park often. My favorite time of year to go there was in the fall, after Labor Day when most of the visitors were gone. The colors were magnificent, the air piercingly clear and crisp, the elk were bugling everywhere and moving around so were much easier to see. Chance sightings of grizzly and wolves were an added bonus.
Jenny, how wonderful that you lived outside Bozeman and could visit Yellowstone often! My favorite time to be in the Park is fall too. It's just gorgeous weather and the crowds have thinned (less so now than it used to be, but it's still a lower human presence). And the elk bugling, so a wonderfully eerie call! I lived at Mammoth Hot Springs, right across from the old parade ground, years ago when I first worked in the park. When I go back as a volunteer "weed warrior" in summer now, I'm based out of Mammoth. I love the Northern Range with its sagebrush and meadows, the peaks and ridges and canyons. It's my heart's home.
Yes, the Northern Range has a unique essence; I know of what you speak and feel. How neat that you lived at Mammoth. A beautiful area and the stone buildings are neat as well. Thank you for being a weed warrior! Noxious weeds are a serious threat and take over so quickly.
You might like this essay I wrote about that work in Yellowstone: https://www.humansandnature.org/filebin/pdf/minding_nature/sep_2018/Weeding_Yellowstone.pdf
Thank you! I loved this essay. So engaging and well crafted. Not only does it delve into the physical aspects of being in Yellowstone pulling weeds, it also is all about your emotional connection. Since I consider sage brush my spirit plant and sage brush country my place, I especially enjoyed reading about her.
Pulling weeds is arduous, yet crucial. If everyone who went on public lands pulled a few weeds each time, it would help immensely. Although, a person needs to be able to identify them, and as you note, some are toxic, like houndstongue and need to be handled appropriately. For years on my family's ranch, my sister and I spent several weeks each summer on weed duty. Dad preferred to use herbicides for several reasons. So we clambered around rough country lugging hand sprayers and zapping leafy spurge, houndstongue and the occasional knapweed. I hated being around the herbicide and we were as careful as we could be in only getting it on the weeds. Because we moved slower while looking for weeds and went in areas of the ranch we did not normally, we would see lots of things. Like dove nests, either with a single egg or a single delicate tiny dove. Mule deer fawns just born, like you got to see. Mule deer bucks, their antlers in velvet. Coyotes and their pups. Nests of other ground dwelling birds. Does threatening us to protect their fawns. One year we were chased by a black Angus bull😬. Even though I hated the herbicide, the time on the land was irreplaceable.
Tentatively, here is a link to a 100 word story I wrote about sage brush. Thank you again for sending your essay☺️
https://earthwisehorse.com/sagebrush-a-100-word-story/
Oh, what wonderful memories of your time on your family ranch! It's true that one of the benefits of hand-killing weeds is the time spent on the land and the sights seen and heard and smelled. Even while lugging sprayers. My backpack sprayer is my companion on the ranch in Wyoming when I'm working with the hoary cress, and now I only fill it halfway because I can't easily lug 28 pounds of sloshing herbicide up steep hills anymore. I hand-weed as much as possible, and I cherish the intimacy that brings with the community of the land, even while I recognize I am killing some plants in preference for others.
Your hundred-word sagebrush piece is gorgeously evocative. I could feel you as a baby rolling around under the silver-green shrub, crushing dried leaves, smelling the unique aroma. Lovely!
Thank you, Susan, for reading my 100 word story about sage brush. I feel a little less guilty about zapping weeds with herbicide now that I know you do also. The sprayers ARE awkward and heavy to lug around, especially in rough country. It would always break my heart when I came across a patch of leafy spurge growing amongst young fir trees, or any other trees. I would pull and pull, but as we know, leafy spurge has a vast underground rhizome and is devilishly hard to kill by weeding. Nonetheless, I'd pull them in hopes of slowing down future growth. I guess we do the best we can in each circumstance.
I can’t wait to read your new book. I’ve read your others and you give me hope and inspiration! I just started reading “Half Earth”, trying to do everything I can to help our planet. I applaud you for all you do. Thank you!
Cherie, E.O. Wilson's Half Earth is cogent argument for conserving as best we can the living communities of this planet. I the book gives you ideas for what you can do. I think of conservation and restoration as beginning at home, with our yards and gardens and neighborhood spaces. Re-thinking our landscaping aesthetic to embrace local native plants and the relationships they weave is part of becoming at home in the places where we live. And thank you for the lovely compliment. :) Blessings!
I love Datura! And now I'm looking forward to reading your next book:). Thank you Susan.
Thank you so much, Emily. I am a slow writer, so heaven knows how long it will take me to finish it, and then comes finding a publisher. So don't hold your breath.... :)
I’m patient:). I am also a slow writer. I’m just glad you’re doing it.
:)
Thanks Susan for another inspiring piece -- Remember that old Jack Nicholson line, "you make me want to be a better man?" I'm changing it to this: Susan, you make me want to be a better person. That's a gift and it's grace. Thank you. I love reading your stuff.
I do remember that line, and I think it's in a popular song too. (But I can't remember who sings it thanks to my aging brain!) Honestly though, I don't think any of us need to be "better" people, just more fully and generously our own amazing selves. You especially bring so much to the world with your rich understanding of humans and our stories and myths and the heart/spirit wisdom we carry within. Many blessings!
Wonderful and so lovely, Susan! It's nice to meet a kindred spirit who re-storys buildings and nature!Cheers and hugs!
Thanks, Robin! I'm looking forward to reading more of your WILDLANDS pieces. Blessings!
Thank you, Susan! I appreciate you and look forward to reading more of your heart-felt work, too! XX