Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Water, who is very useful to us, and humble and precious and pure. Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Earth, our Mother, who nourishes us and sustains us, bringing forth fruits and vegetables of many kinds and flowers of many colours. –from “Canticle of Creation” by St. Francis of Assissi

This mother green heron is protecting her baby from a roadside hawk. The hawk is sitting in a shrub above and to the left, no more than 30 yards away. It had swooped in toward the baby heron alone on the river bank, but the mother heron saw it–long before the human observers on the boat saw it–and came to her chick’s rescue. She was absolutely fierce. The hawk watched like a… well, you know, like a hawk! The humans watched with bated breath. And then the hawk–no match for the mother heron–took off in search of less well-protected prey….

Because you see dear reader, in the garden dry foliage from the previous year’s growth gives its sugars to the new generation. Helps protect plants from desiccating and freezing in the winter. Shelter for birds, hibernating butterflies, and other insects. Death cycle interwoven with the spring. –from “Feed,” by Tommy Pico

“blessed” /blest, ‘blesid/ adjective 1. made holy; consecrated. Like all creation. Like each of us, made as we are in the Divine image. Here’s my little rant on this particular #AdventWord: It is both sadly underused and misunderstood, and wildly over-used and misapplied. How so? Glad you asked. The fruits of capitalism are not “blessings.” They are, well.., the fruits of capitalism. And, in contrast to Divine blessing, they do not fall on the everyone the same. The system works better for some than for others. Those of us who prosper under capitalism are not more “blessed” than those who…

Crows don’t sing, you say. I say, Who are you to judge? When humans do not understand a song, does that make it not a song? Listen to creation! To borrow a phrase from Mary Oliver, “[W]alk slowly, bow often.”