All creatures - fierce, fragile, tender and tall - great ones all.

An ode to toad.

Oh my oh my oh my my my my - July.

I hope you are well and warm where you are - the sun not too fierce, nor altogether too shy.

I cannot believe we are at the mid-way point of the year, this year of altogether-ness. The first one that has — touch a tree — come without (at least in my case) catapult or uprooting. A sense of ground is growing. A present, a moment. And I am grateful to feel my toes. I am grateful for these fragments.. for these slowings. These fractured rearrangements.

These moments of remembering.

Quiet days bring memories, companionships of old, and most of them are furry.

Perhaps we’re all just here for the creatures, old and new. Below is a golden oldie - myself, my sis, and our little lamp.

But I’ve been trying to be ‘here’ more. To dream, to be. To be present, in the process. Even when all seems grey, even when all seems cusp-like and off-kilter..

In just the past four days I’ve seen foxes, deer, house spiders that look as if they belong to another realm, of ogre.

We are not, were never, and never shall be alone — not this month or the next. We are sharing our hearts and lands with all kinds of curious creatures. Miraculous, breathing, shape-shifting.

In 2020 I wrote stories about an Earth Blob named Slumpf and his journeys through forest, field and wetlands. About his encounters with a Flutterby, and the great and terrible beast of the bog who softens when politely spoken to. In 2022, during a period of isolation and drought, I illustrated and independently published them. They are about those sweet little encounters - encounters of love, in all forms - and the 'butterfly’ effect of kindness. I’ll link to more about them further in the post. They are children’s stories, but as with all ‘books for children’, the message is resonant and universal. It is a state of inter-being. Of radical acceptance—

the journeys run deep.

Just as when we are born, our first breath brings cries of ‘what on earth’ and ‘where am I’ - along with an ever-present sensation of raw and unconditional Love that never leaves us - not this moment nor the next. We are bound by it. By this love that inhabits us.

Indeed, our very body is home to micro-organisms so tiny we remain blind to them. And yet they are felt - they are part of us…

Creatures — create-ures. Creatures of constant creation. Teachers, guiding us how to be….

Inter-being is a term coined by now deceased buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh who describes it as follows:

Interbeing is the understanding that nothing exists separately from anything else. We are all interconnected. By taking care of another person, you take care of yourself. By taking care of yourself, you take care of the other person. Happiness and safety are not individual matters. If you suffer, I suffer. If you are not safe, I am not safe. There is no way for me to be truly happy if you are suffering. If you can smile, I can smile too. The understanding of interbeing is very important. It helps us to remove the illusion of loneliness, and transform the anger that comes from the feeling of separation.

I have been writing about creatures - trees, dogs, insects, family, human and otherwise - for as long as I knew how. The creatures were always there for me when I was not.

My first true love was furred. My second true love had petals.…