I am elsewhere than my old mountain home and am revelling in walks within these piney woods. Pine stands smell and sound odd to my ears. There is a deep bed of old needles under my feet and the smell is close but clear.
The birds behave differently here, too, as do the squirrels. There doesn't seem to be much gathering going on--except for me gathering pine cones. These are large and perfect, suitable for all sorts of projects.
And the spirit of the land--or should I say the spirits of the land?--are different, too. Different Ancestors, different Cousins. We do an interesting dance of getting-to-know-you and it delights my senses.
A brief note tonight, friends, on the importance of touching base with the land, wherever you may be. It honors the place you are visiting and it honors your home place, too. If you are a person who leaves small offerings to your own Silent Kindred, you might consider doing the same when you visit.
Think of it as a special kind of "hostess gift".