Newsletter March 2026 Volume 193
Hello there, hope you’re doing well.
Georgie is home for spring break so we have been busy – we went to the Mystic Aquarium earlier in the week and now are headed to the Smith bulb show, but I wanted to check in quickly because it is a momentous occasion!
Spring has finally arrived! The Equinox is today!
Day and night are equal.
We have seen the very beginning of spring; days lengthening and the confusion of daylight savings. Here in Western mass we have had rain fall instead of snow. The rivers have started moving – chunks of ice making their way downstream.
I stopped to walk on the pedestrian bridge across the Connecticut river this week and the birds! Red wing blackbirds, song sparrows, and house finches were singing, and the trees were in blossom.
And the green shoots of daffodils are coming up in the yard.
You might be overwhelmed or feel frozen or discouraged by what is happening in our world and that makes sense with all that is happening in our name with our money.
So much unnecessary destruction and suffering created by choice. It’s hard to endure, but we must because we want to be around to clean it up and to remind people about basic human decency.
It makes me think of this poem by Ellen Bass
The Thing Is
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you down like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
So, let us endeavor to be inspired by the Spring.
By the rivers thawing and moving their big muscular length of green cold water towards the ocean, no longer blocked, no longer held back by ice and snow.
And the buds opening, unfolding from where they have been waiting, leaves condensed, and furled inside, ready to uncurl and open.
And the birds. The geese flying home and all the song birds are returning for the spring insect explosion.
We can welcome all of this back; connect to the earth and the water and the wind. See the sodden grass that has been frozen under the snow suddenly exposed to the sun and ready to come alive. Again.
I am going to try to borrow some of the buoyant vibrancy of spring.
Celebrate warmth and light coming after a dark cold winter.
Let us honor whatever reminds us of our connection to the earth.
The practicality, the inevitability, the stubbornness of life returning and let it fire us up and keep us moving forward.
Especially by supporting others in whatever way we can.
These are hard times.
But spring is upon us.
And here is a poem from our local poet Emily Dickenson who endured many winters that turned into springs just like this.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
Much love and strength to you all.
xoxo
Katherine
Come join us at the:
Full Moon Circle for the Full Pink Moon at Sanctuary on Friday April 3rd
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