Following Along With Nature
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Over the years I’ve come to notice that certain moments act as markers of the seasons. The first purple crocus reminds me it’s time to begin spring cleaning, and I find myself naturally decluttering after the dormancy of winter. When the first leaves appear on the trees at the very end of April, I shift outdoors and start tidying the yard. The first dandelions mean it’s time to pull out my sandals. And when the lilacs bloom at the end of May, I finally tuck away my heavy sweaters for the season.
By mid-July, when buttercups start dotting the fields and roadsides, I’m reminded that summer is already more than halfway through—and if I haven’t yet, it’s time to get to the beach and soak in some of those simple summer pleasures.
Not all of my seasonal reminders come from the garden. In late August, when bags of McIntosh apples start appearing on sale, I know cooler weather is just around the corner. That’s my cue to bring the sweaters back out and pack away my sandals and sundresses. In late September I’ll notice the shadows in my kitchen are falling a little earlier in the day, reminding me that winter is just around the corner and I need to get my wood stacked before snowfall. In mid January, when the sunlight begins to linger in the afternoon, I know we’ve begun the uphill climb back to summer.
Most of these moments happen quietly, almost without thought—they’ve simply become part of the rhythm of my life. But this year, after finishing nursing school and feeling disconnected from so much of my life and nature, I need a better sense of grounding and connection. So I’ve decided to begin tracking the little moments that mark the changing seasons. I think this will be interesting to compare from year to year, as well as a way for me to practice staying present. Intentionally focusing on the world around me is something I feel I need even more now, after working busy 12 hour shifts.
There are dozens of seasonal markers I could name—little cues that prompt action, bring comfort, or signal that something new is on the way. If this is something you’d like to try in your own life, I’ve written a full post about starting a nature journal.
I would love to know what kind of seasonal markers you have in your corner of the world.
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Finding My Path Once Again
Photo by Tim Foster via Unsplash
Last night the sky was so clear that the waxing crescent moon shined as bright as if it were full, illuminating the trees and casting shadows across my gardens. I’ve missed the moon these past 18 months - only giving it fleeting glances now and again, before hurrying to work, study or sleep. I can’t remember the last time I sat with her and let her light wash over me- a simple little ritual I enjoy as a way to bring a sense of peace after a long day.
Now that nursing school is finished (graduation is this weekend!) I feel the slow comedown of completing a big task. The long exhale of a breath I’ve been holding for months. It is both exhilarating and unsettling. I feel as if I’ve entered a new life. Nursing school was one of those dividing life events of Before and After. You know, when you think of the way life was before I had kids or before COVID; or after my divorce, after my kids graduated. Life becomes a bifurcation of our own unique experiences.
Over the past 18 months I had to ignore my natural cadence to slow down in the colder months, because clinicals stop for no one - not even winter or perimenopause. I had to muscle through exhaustion and drag myself across multiple finish lines. All of which goes against the grain of my soul. Now comes the reckoning - my exhaustion has caught up with me and I find myself wanting to rest more than anything.
As part of reclaiming my energy and recalibrating to this new chapter of life, I’ve begun to find my way back to my spiritual path, which I largely left in order to concentrate on school. Like with the moon, I’ve barely been out in nature this season. Usually this time of year I’m eagerly looking for signs of spring - bird songs, daffodil leaves, a change in the slant of sunlight in my sitting room. I’m excited to have the time to do that once more. I worry my gardens will have forgotten me.
I’ve also begun slowly checking things off my post-nursing school list of all the things that have been on hold until I graduated. I’ve picked up my paints and started writing more - creative outlets that leave me energized and refreshed; I subscribed to a couple of ezines in an effort to do less doom scrolling on social media; I picked out new colors for my kitchen walls to refresh the space; and I’ve begun to very gently move my body more, slowly straitening it out from months hunched over a computer or text book.
As tired as I am, I welcome the energy shift that comes with springtime and the Season of the Maiden. I intend to rest as much as I can these last few weeks of winter and then go outside, play in the dirt, sit in the sun, and gently work on releasing the stagnant energy left behind by winter. The earth and I will wake up together this season.
Ostara Resource Guide
As part of my energy reset, I put together this guide for Ostara and the Spring Equinox. It includes some of my own writing and a free Ostara course with printables I’ve shared in previous years. It also has some recommended readings with links. I hope you find it helpful for your own Ostara and springtime celebrations.
More Ostara Reading
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Turning of the Wheel: Samhain
Hello Friends,
Oh, how I’ve missed you. I hope this finds you warm and safe. Here in Western Maine, autumn is beginning its gentle fade toward winter. The vibrant orange and gold of early October have softened into shades of brown and gray. Leaves crunch underfoot, the air has turned crisp, and frost greets me in the mornings. Evenings are best spent cozy beside the woodstove.
So much has happened since I last wrote. Nursing school continues—I have one more class and my preceptorship left, and if all goes well, I’ll be a registered nurse by springtime. I’ve absolutely loved being in school, even though it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Still, I’ll be glad to return to the parts of life I’ve had to pause along the way.
This past year has been one of the most transformative of my life. I began nursing school, ended a decade-long relationship, watched my youngest child leave the nest, and spent a lot of time on my own—busy with studies, but feeling a bit empty in other ways.
Winter was quiet. Spring brought a renewed desire to get out, connect, and have a little fun again. Over the summer, I visited friends and family, managed a short vacation between work and classes, and even met someone who reminded me that it’s never too late to fall in love.
The Wheel Turns and a New Year Begins
Samhain marks the beginning of the Wheel of the Year—the midpoint between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. The veil between worlds grows thin, and we may sense the presence of those who’ve gone before us. It’s the end of the harvest season, the final Celtic fire festival, and a time that carries a deep, quiet magic.
Samhain means different things to different people. You might celebrate in solitude or gather with friends. Create a small altar to honor loved ones, hold a dumb supper, or simply light a candle and sit with your thoughts. Cook something seasonal, take a walk beneath bare trees, and notice how the world is shifting.
The leaves fall. The air cools. Nature settles into its long rest.
Darkness and winter are coming, and a stillness begins to settle over everything. Birds fly south, animals retreat to their burrows, and the land exhales—one long, deep breath, letting go of summer.
The modern world rarely pauses for such things—but you can. Take a breath. Slow down. Acknowledge this sacred turning of the Wheel, and welcome the quiet beginning of a new cycle.
From My Desk
I’m between classes right now and wanted to take this opportunity to send you a note and a little printable. I hope you enjoy it. I’ll do my best to write more often as I near the end of my program.
Wishing you a happy and blessed Samhain, if you celebrate.
Mabon House is open—the printable library and Etsy shop are still available if you’d like to visit.
Take care, and I’ll see you soon.
Lorri
Mabon House