This post is about my lesson from an elder.... berry.
Now you are probably thinking, okay, this girl has written about magick, engineering, bellydancing and now elderberries? She must be losin' it!
Nah, my mental health is FINE!... I think?
I place great value in working with the earth. Its a nice break from the day to day routine of computers, numbers, facts, hostile clientele and the drive-thru window. Since my father was a farm laborer, I like to take time and appreciate the difficult task of food gathering and preparation. Its very grounding and makes me appreciate my uncomfortable chair in my cube with no privacy, working in a mostly air-conditioned building and having work days when not a single drop of sweat drips from my brow. Some people have a much harder time getting their food on the table than I do and I have real gratitude for what I have. I dont want to ever forget that...
So my sweet and dear friend , the Kitchen Witch offered a trip to the local mountains to pick gooseberries and elderberries.
The weather was perfect. The smell of the mountain air was intoxicating. Cirrus cumulus clouds (the cotton ball type) scattered the blue sky and the sunlight was of a chrystalline nature. I live in one of the smoggiest areas in the United States (the Central Valley in California) so the sky is typically dirtied with shades of brown or grey and the sun struggles thru the muck desperately seeking the ability to caress the valley and inhabitants below. The Valley light, on a larger scale, can be compared to the light from a cheap flashlight with the batteries going out. The smell of the mountain air was intoxicating: crisp and sweet, the smell of happiness. The type of air that one should breath from both the nose and the mouth so that each air molecule can penetrate the body and into soul. The Valley air lays upon your skin like an itchy nubby blanket and smells of industrial dust, fumes, soot and oppression.
The company and the conversation was pleasant and my daughter had a great time. She got to see a part of mommy that she typically does not see