Coming Home
to the Age of Aquarius
Combined efforts achieve far more than one individual.
Everyone matters.
Greetings,
The days are growing brighter and longer as we approach the coming Equinox. I feel so fortunate to look out over the Palouse hills, watch the sunset and rising moon, and delight in the activity of birds, deer, and foxes. I am blessed to be in the abundance of nature.
Since my husband and I moved here in the spring of 2019, I have been adjusting to the newness of this land. Introducing myself to the trees, giving thanks to the richness of the soil, planting trees and shrubs to create wildlife habitat. These connections to the spirit and the ancestral beings of this place feel new and anciently familiar.
Most of us grew up in separation and have built stories around our disconnection. I know these stories well and have learned to love them and all the ways they show up as teachers. What all of those stories have taught me is that we are wired for deeply relational ways of being with all of life. Following the flow and movement of the Palouse and observing the habits of the wildlife all feel like coming into right relationship with my true self and my surroundings.
The pull to merge with this land was so strong I had to write about it. The words landed on the page in one poem after another until a book emerged. Where Everything Wild Has a Home, Wild Poems is my gift to the ancestral and spirit beings of this land and you. In April I will be doing the official launch with book readings in person and on Zoom so please stay tuned.
I would like to close with one of the many poems that speak to “place”. Not just our place of living but our place in the bigger picture of where we are going. The gate is wide open what do you want to walk, fly or run toward?
In deep appreciation for all we are becoming,
Christine McDonald
Full Moon in Aquarius
I open the latch to the gate and step out into the field.
A thin blanket of fresh snow lies underfoot.
Clouds are high and married to a cool breeze from the north.
I take the path down the hill, passing the ponderosa pine,
a monument to a past I want to dream back into reality.
Past the hawthorn thicket and on toward the river in hopes of a subtle change in wind chill.
A flock of thirty geese turn their eyes in my direction—will they hear my silent request for unobtrusive passage?
One outstretched neck is followed by another as they take a small step before gathering their wings beneath them. Then they ascend upward.
Another small flock on the river’s edge follows.
A third flock further up the floodplain follows the second.
Within seconds wings move in sync.
The birds come into V formation, honking encouragement to go higher, faster.
The lead goose circles the flock back above my head then falls back into line as another moves forward.
The flock disappears over the valley’s windblown horizon, the sky as alive as any other wilderness.
I feel synergistic wisdom in action.
Combined efforts achieving
far more than one individual.
Here, everyone matters.
Love and beauty can fill
the emptiness of a new moon.
The planets, the geese, and I have
aligned to take flight
into the age of Love and Aquarius.
