It is cool this late June morning in the California Redwoods. The path leading out of camp is lined with thigh high ferns and low patches of sorrel and wild ginger. There are over a dozen of us, witches of all genders and generations, walking single file looking up the tall Redwood trunks through the green canopy of their branches, still wet with fog. We stop periodically while our teachers speak of each plant and tree, and what these Greenbloods have to teach us. Our teachers invite us to see and smell, and with permission from the plant itself, touch and taste. I particularly love the taste of the tiny bit of Redwood I put in my mouth - it is sour and astringent on my tongue, then floods me with a deep sense of rootedness, vast amounts of time and history, and a promise of connection to what has come before, including the possibility of deeply witnessing the lives of my own ancestors.
Also lining the path is a plant I have been familiar with since childhood, Poison Oak. I have always loved its three leaf shape and its flame colors: gradations of yellow, orange, red, and purple - but most of the Poison Oak here is still green, the fire show still to come as the summer progresses. One of our teachers points it out, and with a smile says, “Poison Oak teaches us about respecting boundaries.” He goes on to remind us to be careful not to touch those leaves....
(click here for full post on PaganSquare at my Sacred Cells blog)
Also lining the path is a plant I have been familiar with since childhood, Poison Oak. I have always loved its three leaf shape and its flame colors: gradations of yellow, orange, red, and purple - but most of the Poison Oak here is still green, the fire show still to come as the summer progresses. One of our teachers points it out, and with a smile says, “Poison Oak teaches us about respecting boundaries.” He goes on to remind us to be careful not to touch those leaves....
(click here for full post on PaganSquare at my Sacred Cells blog)
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