Each year, Earth Day invites us to pause and remember our place within the living, breathing fabric of this world. It’s a day of awareness- but also of gratitude. A day to honour the land beneath our feet, the winds that carry our stories, the water that sustains us, and the quiet wisdom of the trees.
This letter is my offering- a love note, a thank you, a remembrance of the sacred relationship I hold with Mother Earth. Sometimes, all that’s needed- all that I can offer- for all the beauty I witness, is a thank you. So this goes from my heart to hers- I share it with you in hopes that it might stir your own connection and inspire a moment of stillness and reverence in you this Earth Day.
I see you. The green of fertile life as you unfurl and unfold between leaf and stem. I have walked your path a thousand footsteps- and yet the delicate nature of your new growth still stops me in my path. In another thousand footsteps you will do the same. I speak of resilience as though I know the word- that I feel it in my bones and in my every breath. Perhaps I do. But you- you live and breathe resilience. From that first delicate drop of snow white, to the unapologetic unfurling of fuzzy leaf to the colour now daring to sparkle and shine. You bloom in beauty that even after all these years, it still leaves me breathless. Still brings a smile to my lips. It’s a sacredness of beauty, of the earth, I was taught by my previous generation and I continue to pass down to my next generation. I find myself lost among my thoughts sometimes, whilst I soak up the rays of sun that you bloom for- in another thousand years, will my descendants still honour you in your sacred beauty?
You are my sacred home. The land I walk and the air I breathe. For that, I am grateful. You bring joy to memories that will one day begin to fade, and to those recently made- and I know you will continue to bring joy as the years pass me by. I still remember the scent of lavender within my favourite walk. I still remember the juiciness of the first ripe and wild strawberry that called my garden its home. I will never look upon the sea of yellow daffodils and not say a prayer for Persephone, returned from the Underworld. I remember the call of the frogs as mating season began. I remember the Sparrowhawk sitting upon my fence, a sacred pause when time stood still before the rebirth of me and the birth of my son. My gratitude knows no bounds when it comes to you. I am thankful for the memories that become bitter-sweet that are nestled among your plants. The roses whose names were picked for grandparents. The peony that blooms every year- the same one that was once held within my bridal bouquet; the same one that was a gift from my nanna’s garden before she breathed her last.
Your gift is in the stories that weave themselves in life and myth. Each memory I make and each new story I write. The ones that echo across time and space with wisdom and knowledge at their core, rooted in your fields of gold or woods of mystery. Your gift is the nourishment of my muse- and my offering is the words I write. An endless cycle that is mine to cherish. Your gift is in the foods that nourish me body and soul. The first crunch of cucumber, or the smell of freshly dug potatoes that taste divine upon my dinner plate. Your gifts are mine to teach my son- to see him honour you like I have always done. Your gift is the wisdom you provide- of when to grow, when to bloom, when to retreat, when to wait. It’s in the wisdom of how life continues even when stillness seems like death. Your gift is in the wisdom that you have taught to the birds who grace your skies, or the deer that trample through your woods, or the foxes that cross your fields. Your gifts are sensory and divine, and I offer my heartfelt thank you for them.
So yes, I see you. I have always seen you.
May we each take a moment to reconnect this Earth Day- to listen, to notice, to honour. Gratitude is a powerful act of remembrance, and in offering it, we nourish the bond between ourselves and the land that holds us. Whether through whispered words, bare feet on soil, or tending a single seed- your thank you matters.
So today, and every day, may we see her clearly. May we remember that we are part of her story- and she, part of ours.