Thanksgiving Address by Colleen Corrigan

I give thanks to the water that flows down the rivers, the blood that
courses through my veins
I give thanks to the wind that cleanses the air, the breath that
purifies the space
I give thanks to the land that supports all life, the bones that
support all beings
I give thanks to the sun that warms and nurtures, the soul that heals
I give thanks to the space that is everlasting, the emptiness that is
always full
i give thanks to the beauty that prevails, the mystery that never ceases
I give thanks to the support, love and forgiveness that I have been
shown, the acceptance with the self
May we plane our feel firmly in the earth, so that the worms know our
toes, the grass cools our skin
May we raise our heads up high and experience the reason for our existence...
To give thanks and enjoy the beauty
Thank you


When Nature Walks

When Nature Walks 

by Eve Breen

When Nature Walks
Trees talk, they dance,
They wave their arms!
To say hello.
When Nature Walks
Plants and flowers,
Push up and up and up,
Through soil, rock and grass,
Until they come to full bloom.
When Nature Walks
Bugs creep,
Ants scatter,
Spiders crawl over all.
When Nature Walks
We breathe,
We listen to the silence,
We hear a voice,
Speaking through our own,
When Nature Walks

A Cross Country Ski Trip

Skiing the Back 40 by Marj Hughes as told to Naomi Kelly 

Marg and her friends went on a ski trip a couple of weeks ago on the woodlot of an old farm. Marg has been reading the book A Soul’s Pilgrim by Christine Valters Paintner and she was inspired by the idea of visio divina -taking a quite meditative walk with your camera and letting the scenery pop out at you. 

The trees caught her attention, standing so still and beautiful against the winter snow. Many things passed by them, but they stood rooted and grounded in one spot. As the world passed by, they did not move, they did not have to move, because they received all they needed from where they stood. They offered strength in their constancy. 

The first treethat caught her attention looked like its bark was decorated with celtic knots. Such a beautiful woven pattern - how did the bark come to be like this? What must have happened to cause it? The tree continued its life, constant in its watch. 

The next treehad a large burl. “These tumors result from abnormal wood growth due to injury, infection or bud malformation.” (from Bark by Michale Wojtech)  So many times we try and get over trauma - when the trauma may be one of our teachers. It’s how we react to the traumas of life that make something a blessing or a burden. The tree took on this infestation and decided to make it a part of itself, and in doing that it continued to grow and thrive.

Another tree, at one time, had a bard wire fence nailed into it. Fence can kill a tree, but the tree just grew a protective bark around the wound and kept growing. There is a scar, but the growth continues.  We are thankful for the messages that are told in the trees. They are constant and stable, they keep growing, using what would wound them and turning it into life. When we walk with the eyes of our hearts open, we receive what we need so that we can be constant in our faith journey.

Blessed Spring

Blessed Spring

by Joan Williamson

The ground is cold and nothing grows.

I await the blessed spring. Soon earth

awakes and changes show in every

living thing. 

The ground is cracking from beneath,

soon leaves stretch forth and shine.

The unforgiving winter yields its place

and springtime is divine.

Flowers romp, sweet winds cavort

and robins pace the grass looking 

for their breakfast there where 

rainbows sing and dance.

The sweetest breath of summer 

comes and soon warms the coldest 

heart. Cornfields toss their leaves 

in time and winds thrill with songs 

of larks.

Every facet of nature glows. Each 

aspect plays its part. The earth is 

humming its own tune and holds 

God’s gentle heart.

Soon autumn comes, the hoary 

frost breaks the back of things. 

Snowflakes fall, snow mountains

grow and winter now is king.

Each season stays in its own 

place and knows when to come 

and go. I await the spring again 

this year as I watch the seasons 


Joan Williamson 


© 2013