Nana i ke kumu ... look to the source

Last night, at dusk, the rain dangled like diamonds, soaked the dragon

left puddles for the first time in two moons (two months)

Watering the potted Rose of Sharon, the blossoms burst 

Ripples in puddles, reflect what is above

This morning there are clouds and blue sky

This morning on the Prairie Front (South Whidbey Tilth) spider webs catch rain drops

I ask Pete to show me the two trees who have joined hands. I tell him "They know something." 

From the Prairie Front I intended to go straight home; the long ferry 'dump' (cars streaming off the ferry) changed my mind. I headed for the Maxwelton Watershed. Checking on the growth of St. Joan's Wort at this time, I was curious of her availability. Was she still growing since my harvesting shortly after Summer Solstice?
"YES, she said. I am still here."

Many of the flowers had turned from yellow to red, but a few still grow yellow. I was tempted to harvest today. Huna ... the flowers hide. Maybe not today. And, yes, not today because I have no scissors to cut her. 'I won't pull your hair to satisfy my need!" I tell her I'll be back if that's alright with her; with a scissors closer to Hoku the Full Moon which is Friday coming. 

The lei la'i is dried now, but beautiful in our car. Reminding me to braid TEK (Traditional Ecological Knowledge) with the Mundane (the everyday today which is like a wild bean crazy with going places)

My straw hat wears a special flat leaf of Sacred Cedar, a tiny bit from a very special Cedar growing not far from our vardo. She reminds me to remember all the things, people, places that are important.

In the field behind the fence where I have spotted St. Joan's Wort cows munch. What you can't see are the soaring Swallows gliding and diving. Maybe I am too close for their comfort. I don't stay long.

Just before I leave I look up and see the source ... Nana i ke kumu ... is there a promise of water, precious giver of life.

"We give thanks to all of the waters of the world for quenching our thirst, for providing strength and nurturing life for all beings. We know its power in many forms--waterfalls and rain, mists and streams, rivers and oceans, snow and ice. We are grateful that the waters are still here and meeting their responsibility to the rest of Creation. Can we agree that water is important to our lives and bring our minds together as one to send greetings and thanks to the Water? Now our minds are one."
- The Words Before All Else The Thanksgiving Address of the Onandaga language

Ku and Lono bring Kane

A Kukahi Moon up high

Lono down low ... blowing

blowing,

blowing

blowing at the same time

The winds have brought a little moisture, waking on this Ku Pau  a sprinkle of 'ua -- Ka Wai Ola, Kane. 

"We give thanks to all the Waters of the world. We are grateful that the waters are still here and doing their duty of sustaining life on Mother Earth. Water is life, quenching our thirst and providing us with strength, making the plants grow and sustaining us all. Let us gather our minds together and with one mind, we send greetings and thanks to the Waters.' - Thanksgiving Address from the Haudenosaunee

Muku nei in the sign of Cancer the crab

These pictures from up mauka (in the high lands, where we live)

The sky was muted blue with 'real clouds' But the air is still filled with the ash of fires, old La'au the Tutu trees of Vancouver Island are burning. The climate is changed

Brackens are already turning

Blackberries are ripening

Peaches are growing

The tall grasses have browned, dried in place

Purple plums are beautiful, ripening though not ripe enough to pick and eat ... 

Robins don't wait to eat them.

My Two Sisters tiny garden (squash and beans) with volunteer mizuna and bok choy 

The champagne grapes are clustering nicely.

And then ma kai (to the water) and wetlands on the west side of Whidbey, West Beach facing the Straits of Juan de Fuca less than an hour drive from our place in Langley.

The wetlands across the road from our friends' beach home are already plump and beginning to 'fuzz'

It is nearly noon when I took this. A stretch of pohaku (stones) front our friends' home with a small gully of ocean water between a sandy low lying dune. Across the water and to the left is Vancouver Island where the Tutu burn

Braiding on a Mauli Moon

Tonight as the sun starts his journey over the horizon Pete and I sat and braided lei la'i for two friends who will marry later in the week. They are old friends to one another; a good place to start a marriage. The strength, give-and-take and add-on's necessary to braid lei with two people ... a nice metaphor for a marriage.

The finished lei are in the frig, will be packed in a cooler, and chilled some more (even better if frozen) until it's time for the little ceremony. Teri is an old friend who has known my 'ohana back in Kuli'ou'ou. What a treat to share the goodness of la'i from an island we both love, on an island we live on now. Mahalo Ke Akua ... you're the best!

Aloha piha Teri and Martin!

Kane Po

We were blessed with Kane's presence yesterday, reminding us to pay attention and remember respectfully. All the giving of our Gods come especially when you remember to remember. It's that malama 'aina (caring for the land, and the beings-other-than human) who give and give, and ask us to remember to ask, "What I can bring and give to you?"

The wind, makani, came and the breeze was cool and lovely.

The sky cleared so blue (the ancient color of love) could be seen for the first time in many weeks.

The clouds returned, creating sky pictures and textures to the heavens about.

The air cleaned.

We gave thanks, breathed deeply, and relaxed with all the gifts.

What can we give to you? We asked. We had the first Safety Pin Cafe Storytelling Sunday to present. It was a time to check in on the progress of the new Lunar Year, The Year of the Green Goat. Was a half-way through.

After such a busy week, our set-up activities were slower, more laid-back. So laid back we forgot to bring the camera. A'ole pictures for now. Everyone at Sunday's Farmers' Market was laid back as well. No one came to sit with us for the first thirty minutes. We waited, Pete and I stretched out and enjoying the cruise time. I was ready for a nap!

But. Then one, and then another, and then a mother and her daughter came to be with us. Then two mothers and their three children joined us at the picnic tables. We welcomed them, we chanted E HO MAI, what do we need to hear today, what stories need to be told? Kane had blessed us with all we needed. We reciprocated and let the words fly in his honor.

Mahalo Kane. 

Good fishing, good planting on a Kaloa Po

We planted good seeds of connection, braided la'i between four hands, fished in the waters among the coral reef to practice He puko'a kani 'aina, and began anew the building of island as HO'OMOKU was birthed. See! (click to witness the kani, and the connections).

'Ole Pau

Mahina is in her 'half-half' light. Early morning with the first birdsong, I am awake with the energy of preparation and anticipation. On the 'Ole Pau, the hesitation, the waiting draws to an end. "Soon," says the Moon, "Soon."