A Gift from Mother Crane

Part of my ancestor work involves being present in the world now. I honor and remember my ancestors. Someday I will be a part of that ancestral energy. I know this. I think about how I want those who come after will think about how we left the world for them. And I try to spread joy and peace and kindness. I try to make that who I am in the world today.

We spend our lives trying to find ourselves, trying to find our place, trying to find a way to be of use. Or we spend our lives just trying to survive. We are each a strand on the larger web, and there are crossroads where our paths converge. It is when we open ourselves to these moments that we build layers to the web. We become the web. We see our interconnectedness. We see and we are seen.

This past weekend I attended the New York Faerie Festival in Ouaquaga, NY, a place of play where Renaissance Faire meets Fae and other world beings like goblins, dryads, mermaids, trolls, fauns, elves, unicorns, dragons, and fairies- both local and visiting- are interspersed with human travelers. All meet in a sprawling wood along a creek. It’s a place thick with magic, whatever that means to you.

One of my favorite encounters over the weekend was with Mother Crane, her arms laden with brightly-colored papers as she walked around, engaging passersby. I found her reading a poem for another guest and waited my turn. When it came, she looked at me a moment, then down to her papers. With a quick nod of her head she plucked one out.

It was perfect. It encapsulated the sweetness of what summer means to me. Taking a breath in, Mother Crane looked me in the eye and began to read the words of Wendell Berry:

The cherries turn ripe, ripe,

and the birds come: red-headed

and red-bellied woodpeckers,

blue jays, cedar waxwings,

robins—beautiful, hungry, wild

in our domestic tree. I pick

with the birds, gathering the red

cherries alight among the dark

leaves, my hands so sticky

with juice the fruit will hardly

drop from them into the pail.

The birds pick as I pick, all

of us delighted in the weighty heights

--the fruit red ripe, the green leaves,

the blue sky and white clouds,

all tending to flight—making

the most of this sweetness against

the time when there will be none.

Enjoy the summer. Enjoy the sun. Take in the brightness. Remember the light in the darkness. Become the light. Be a beacon of light during darker times. May that light birth joy. May the world be a brighter place because you were part of it. May we all walk towards peace and togetherness.