Julia Butterfly Hill spent 738 days 180' high in a 200' redwood estimated to be 1,000 years old. One day, through her prayers, an overwhelming amount of love started flowing through her, filling up the dark hole that threatened to consume her. She suddenly realized that what she was feeling was the love of the Earth, the love of Creation.
"Everyday we, as a species, do so much to destroy Creation's ability to give us life. But the Creation continues to do everything in its power to give us life anyway. And that is true love."
Spring can be the most difficult season of the year catching us between the rising tide of life and the damp caverns of memory that lie among the sleepy roots of our being. It is time to attend the soil that has lain fallow for many months -- we are, after all, animated ground. April can be an agitating month, leaving us to ride out this new, insistent life from places inside us never before reached. Kites, in the driven skies, tug at thin strings that tether them to earth, just as our souls tug at our bodies. Swallows and purple martins dive heart-stoppingly into the emptiness. Something light and lithe in us responds. . . . We are, after all, much more than rational beings.