Here’s to Eostre, the goddess of spring. Respect is long overdue.
Ever since Bubba invented the wheel, we humans have grown increasingly smug with ourselves. We saw the birds soar and said, “We can do that.” We saw the moon shine and said, “We will go there.” We dug into Her earth and plundered her minerals to power our industry. We took, not what we needed, but all that we wanted. What we did not use, we discarded. We clear-cut Her forests, polluted Her oceans, strip mined Her mountains, destroyed Her ozone. And then we argued about it: “Not true! Is true! You did it! Did not! Did, too!”
Let’s just admit it: We have not been good stewards; we’ve been squatters leaving our trash behind and moving on, then repeating. This week I read that President Trump said “we’d” go to the moon to mine Her minerals. Perhaps we could pluck all the stars from the sky while we’re at it.
For some, however, the pandemic has been a wake-up call. If you, like I, have enjoyed the privileges of good health, paid work, and social time, I am sure the lesson this spring has been a challenge to absorb. We are not in charge. It doesn’t matter how many Gs we have on our cellphone. Mother Nature gave us breath and she takes it away. It is as it has always been, and yet it is so easy to forget.
Some scholars say it is no coincidence Easter is celebrated at the same time as the Pagans celebrated their spring rites, just as Christmas coincides with Winter Solstice rituals. No group of people wants to give up their traditions (and parties) to join another group. Bunnies, chicks, and lambs are all symbols of spring that have gotten bundled with Easter celebrations. The message of renewal transferred, as well.
I believe that both Easter and spring
bring the promise of forgiveness.
On this Easter weekend, as Christians around the world celebrate the resurrection of one who died for the sins of the world, let us also remember the loss of those who have died all around the world due to this pandemic. So many alone. We bow our heads.
As the people in my community practice social isolating, businesses remain closed, and only the most essential workers are called to serve the non-essentials. We bow our heads.
(Photo Courtesy: Rachel Navarro)
To the east of me, the river floods its banks. The cottonwoods shiver as the river surrounds them. Water laps at the steel bridges men have built, and travelers are forced to “go around.” We bow our heads.
(Photo courtesy: Michael Bogart. Shot April, 2020 in Grand Forks, ND) The moon shines down, bigger and brighter. Mother Nature’s eye winks as if to say, “Hello! Remember me?”
We bow our heads.
However, Nature is a merciful mother. The crocus? The honk of the geese? There is forgiveness in those signs. Our Mother may give us another chance.
Let’s not blow it.
Embrace your creativity: Take a walk around your neighborhood this weekend and look for signs of nature's promise of rebirth. How many birds can you count in a single tree? Take a photo, write a poem, share a memory and feel free to share here. Let's celebrate spring for those who are no longer here to celebrate with us.