May 5, 2015
Reverence for nature. That’s what captivates me most about the lifestyle of the American Indians.
This excerpt from Chief Seattle’s letter written to the president in 1852 captures that reverence:
Every part of the earth is sacred to my people. Every shining pine needle, every sandy shore,
every mist in the dark woods, every meadow, every humming insect. All are holy in the
memory and experience of my people.
We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses
through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are
our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests,
the dew in the meadow, the body heat of the pony, and man all belong to the same family.
These eloquent words speak to my soul like a kindred spirit.
To consider myself, as Chief Seattle penned, a sister to the perfumed flowers. . .
and a brother to the esteemed animals, makes me, a nature lover, feel extraordinarily spectacular.

male oriole quickly descends for grape jelly
‘We are part of the Earth and it is part of us’, he wrote. After Saturday’s trembling from a rare, in these parts, earthquake, I felt my connectedness to Earth in a new way.
Since there was no injury, I found it a pleasant experience like a hearty handshake from an old friend.
Not so long ago, the Potawatomi tribe of Indians walked the same trails as I. When this farm was built, in 1865, there was a settlement across the meadow, under the whispering pines.
Sleep does not come easy for me this time of year; not because I am unable, but because it is difficult to let go of the beauty of spring even for a few hours rest. While the household sits quiet, I rock on the porch, listen to the trills and peeps of the frogs, and imagine Potawatomi chants drifting across the prairie.
Blossom and be like your sisters, sing and be like your brothers– you are beautiful!
Superb words and photographs. The man makes one feel humble
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He was, I think, what we call an old soul. I’ve met a few, and upon the meeting did not want to leave.
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I wish more people shared this point of view. Not just a POV, but a truth. It is exactly how I feel – however, my appreciation of nature never gets in the way of my 40 winks! 😉
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You must find yourself a stoop, Eliza, and when the moon is bright and constellations many, go there to dream with your eyes wide open– 39 winks will do. Thanks for your visit.
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We do have a small porch that we sit upon and I’ve been known to walk in the moonlight, but I guess I do that less than I used to. I will take your advice – I like the idea of dreaming with my eyes wide open. 🙂
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You live in such beautiful surroundings and your photographs showcase them. I, too enjoy those times when the house is silent and I can listen to the noises in my backyard of possums feeding, frogs. nightjars and curlews. I probably do get a little sleep deprived because of it! It’s very soothing though to have that peaceful time alone.
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Hey Jane, Thanks for introducing me to nightjars and curlews– such perfect names for creatures of the dark. We do not have them here in Michigan, but I googled them and was able to hear their song. The world of technology never ceases to amaze me, connecting two worlds a world apart.
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It is a wonderful world! I shared my backyard creatures including the nightjar (frogmouth) and a curlew in an old post, “The Shortest Hike in the World.” There is a pic of a snake in my letterbox, my noisy possums and a few other “companions” too. No beautiful peacocks but a big bush turkey. 🙂 http://wp.me/p4gcIq-dW
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The farmer has fed them for decades, wow! Beautiful captures. The peacock is glorious, Julie!
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I just learned grape jelly feeding is like feeding them junk food– not recommended by my birding friends. They love it so. I think I will make it a once-in-a-while treat.
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🙂
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