opening ourselves with the hinging daylight hours

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Pentacost's First Wild Praying

Tonight as I was umpiring baseball I looked down at the dirt, and forgetting were I was decided that I wanted to plant marigolds behind home plate. 

 Today was breathtaking. When I close my eyes all I can see is this stunning creature that we found in the Emerald Street garden today. I basically had a photo shoot  with the praying mantis. Additionally I downloaded pictures from the St. Patrick's Day Potato planting party when the Buddhist Monks walked into our garden on their way from Boston to D.C., on foot, spreading the word of disarmament, walking for a new peace. I made many wonderful friends that day, and the earth was blessed with the goodness of their feet and the chant that is said within the same rhythm.

I just got the charger fixed for my camera, but unfortunately my little video camera broke.  I am really glad that I could photograph the praying mantis that we found in the garden today. Praying mantises are indicator species for air quality, and they are also great beneficial insects that eat almost every other insect in the garden. 

Here in this photo with the praying mantis you can see a certain sign that the mulberries are ready: purple bird poop. Today I walked out to the park with half a dozen kids and a full term Cheryl.  We laid down a tarp and shoook the branches. My fingers are still purple, and 3 gallons of mulberries sit in my kitchen. We also planted beans and harvested our strawberries. It started to pour on us and we decided to run under the trees and wait out the storm. I was so happy, so intimate with the garden, one with the children and the power of the earth in our neighborhood up at the part of the park that the children call "the forest."  It never thundered, but now as I write I can feel the ions in the air of  a charged and ready earth surrounding me.  As we stood under the trees a few of the Mexican girls decided they wanted to stand in the rain. The one threw her arms up in the air and said, "I love wetting myself. I love wetting myself" over and over again. Cheryl and I were giggling so hard, that I felt bad telling her that in American English that means that she peed her pants. Maybe I will tell her next time it rains .

Cheryl is so pregnant now. I stare up at the moon and I know the baby will come when it is full.  The full moon is this Sunday, in 4 days. The same Mexican girl keeps asking Cheryl when will she go to the doctor to take out her baby.  And Cheryl explains that the baby will push its way out and Cheryl will push too, when the baby tells her that it is ready. It was very beautiful to listen to Cheryl and Timothy patiently telling the children over again these things and that they won't be going to the hospital. The hospital is prepared to treat you as you are sick, and they want to be in their home to welcome the child into the world there, without strangers, and gowns, sterile walls, and threatening medications. I love them, I love their baby, and I love the moon that is coming into fullness.

Father Michael is wearing red now that it is pentacost, and we are kneeling again, in the sanctuary.  My camera broke when the statue was being unveiled on Sunday, when the gusts of wind came and the fiery peace was revealed. 

It was some sort of Amish Holiday on Monday June 1st, the day after Pentacost Sunday. I was up in Lancaster with my mom and when we went to Miller's, the Amish health food store. It was closed. The farmers weren't working in their fields, but in the evening as I was driving back down to Camden through the backroads, many many buggies were out and about. As I drove down 741 through Strasburg I watched a buggy go by me with a 14 year-old Amish girl wearing rollerblades holding onto the back of the buggy while it rolled down the road, like Michael J. Fox in Back to the Future. Then as I went down the road a little further I passed a buggy with an old man in his 70's or so with a full body beard. He had fallen asleep at the reins and the horse was trotting onward toward the home stable. These things made me happy. 

I was thinking. Maybe Pentacost was so special to them because during this time the holy spirit comes down. The scripture describes in the second chapter of Acts that during the First Pentacost the early Christians lived together and shared all of their possessions in common. The Amish certainly embrace this sort of living in community. 

My friend showed me a video and I think it sums up how Pentacost makes me feel: 

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