I'm not sure where I first read about keeping a Nature Table, but I do know that the idea resonated with me immediately. Gathering and sorting. Gleaning and displaying. A place for the little bits to have a home and to be revered.
I knew when I asked for this table from my parent's basement what its purpose would be. After it arrived, I walked around the house and collected up all those little bits of nature that I've brought into our home, but that, until now, didn't have a place to live. Some geodes and feathers. Shells and wool. I envision this as being a place for Silas in the future, but right now, it's for mama. It sits in our living room right next to the television and I find myself surprised by the frequency with which my eyes gravitate to this space. Seeking out the uncontainable natural forms; such a contrast to the right angles that proliferate our home. I feel peace and calm as my eyes trace their outline. As my hands feel the cool and the warmth. The soft and the hard.
My current poetry book has also found its way here and seems to fit in perfectly. I'm wandering through the collected works of Sara Teasdale at the moment. I'll leave you with my poem for today, "Wood Song"...
I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
Twirl three notes and make a star--
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.
Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call--
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.