Nothing has been more nurturing to me throughout my cancer diagnosis than the natural world. What I once didn’t notice, I notice all the time now––most especially the animals living in my yard and the meadow across the road. I can walk out my front door and see squirrels, baby bunnies and frogs hopping everywhere. There’s a very vocal old owl who lives in the tree outside of the window next to my writing desk. There are eagles teaching their babies to fly. Woodpeckers never stop making drums of the trees. Across the road, hundreds of prairie dogs stand up on their hind legs gossiping all day long with their prairie dog neighbors. Commonly, snakes as long as the width of a road cross my path. The other day I woke up to this section of our fence missing near our compost bin, and yep––that’s the handiwork of an actual bear. (I don’t mind one bit that I wasn’t around to see it. I’m fine not having one-on-one interactions with bears.)
I’m also fine not having one-on-one interactions with bobcats, but an entire family lives very close by and so we never let the dogs out of our sight. A few months back, a coyote stole Meg’s delivery pizza from our driveway (it left my vegan cauliflower-crust pizza in-tact.) This is all to say I’ve got a lot of friends around me these days. And a lot of wisdom too. The more I spend time in nature, the more I understand the value of trusting my instincts more than my mind. My mind is not a whole lot more than a collection of other people’s ideas. But my instincts are mine, and they know something the rest of me forgot. My instincts walk barefoot through this world, sleep in the trees, and are always in touch with abundance. My instincts wake with the sun, howl with the moon, and never waste a breath on anything but beauty. Meg and I sleep outside some nights. We built a bed on our upstairs porch (where the bears can’t reach us). It’s lovely and makes a lot of sense considering the fact that when I’m sleeping inside I spend all night watching camping and wilderness survival videos. I’m writing this newsletter on the picnic table outdoors. Squash is at my feet pondering whether or not to run from the frog hopping a few inches away from her. Squash is as afraid of frogs as I am of bears. I love her more for it. I hope something wonderful is hopping your way today everyone. Here’s a little video of me talking to my squirrel friend about some of nature’s most beautiful facts.
Thank you for being here.
Love, Andrea Outdoors 🖤