There’s no reason ecosystems can’t be better because humans are a part of them. It simply depends on us harnessing our gifts and directing them toward the right goal.

He had heard tales of a spectral procession sometimes seen riding over wild places during the darkest time of the year. It was said that this band of hunters stalked souls that had strayed from the spirit world, preying upon monsters and men and anything else unfortunate enough to stand in its path. They called it the Wilde Jagd. The Wild Hunt.

This is a time when we desperately need stories about predatory giants — and the goddesses who tear them down.

It’s not just a matter of remembering who we were. It’s about understanding who and what we are. We are members of an interdependent ecosystem, one peopled by a multitude of intelligent beings, and we evolved to live in deep relationship with nature.

Bears are the prototype for the dying and rising being, and while today we still associate Spring with bears coming out of hibernation, in the ancient understanding, the causal arrow may have been reversed. It wasn’t that bears woke up because Spring arrived and things thawed out. Instead, bears came out of hibernation and brought new life with them.

With mulberries, their very presence is subversive, undermining the carefully curated spaces of domestic living.

Our cardinal friend, and his reputation as a heavenly messenger, is just one more example of the ways a belief in the spiritual potency of birds has manifested itself over the centuries.

Making peace with impermanence, being in the moment, letting go, living in harmony with the world around us — these are some of the most profound lessons that nature has to offer us. This is the Way of Flow, and the rolling river is among its greatest teachers.