The Weekly Graze

Walking through the midwinter landscape somehow settles my need for shiny perfection. I fall in love with the beauty of shadows and the depth of mystery.

As we enter December, the balance of life shifts and the temperatures drop. We focus on keeping the buildings just ‘warm enough’ and finding new forms of joy.

Genuine thanksgiving requires creating space and time, asking many questions, and listening deeply.

Every year as I begin preparations for Thanksgiving, I am struck by the complex, morally mixed issues this holiday creates.

As snow begins to cover the ground at Mission Farm and a new season approaches, change is in the air.

BLESSING FOR PEACE - As the fever of day calms towards twilight. May all that is strained in us come to ease…

Being with others is how we discover the sacred. It is how we walk together through this journey we call life.

In the center of the basement of the vicarage is a large root cellar. It is made of stone and has shelves along the walls. Empty canning jars - the ones with wire closures and glass lids - still sit on the shelves.

At the root of faith is hope. It is hope that sustains through days filled with news of violence and terror that seem neverending.

Autumn is a glorious season in Vermont. Every morning the landscape is new. The yellow and crimson leaves dance to the forest floor - rocking back and forth on a breath of wind.

This Sunday we celebrate St. Francis, the patron saint of ecology. He is frequently depicted as a garden statue, but Francis was more than an adornment for nature lovers.

Although Sunday morning gathering is still an important way to be with one another, our post-pandemic world requires new ways to connect.

It's the season of honey! 💚🐝 Our "Queen Beekeeper" Kim began extracting honey this week from the hives at Mission Farm.

This week has been all about reconnecting. I spent some time this week with a friend who is on retreat at Mission Farm.

The skies are illuminated this week by the blue moon. The luminous evening sky seems appropriate following the festival held last week at Mission Farm.

It is with great joy that Mission Farm introduces ‘The Odeon’ - a gathering space in the heart of the Green Mountains.

Another day of rain in Vermont. The road is speckled with frogs and toads. The moss and fern are living their best lives. The ground is soft and puffy with water.

What is home? What does it mean to be connected? Who am I, and what is my purpose in life?

The creatures, flora, and fauna that fill the 180 acres of woodland and animal habitat at Mission Farm reflect the core values that have emerged in this place: connection, conservation, and justice.

Our planet's health presents a deeply spiritual challenge. How can our desire for connection expand to include our spiritual concern for the environment?

There is nothing like a natural disaster to remind us that we are more than what we do and achieve. The rain has brought an awareness of the grace and humility of being human.

Sitting on the porch after a week of devastating floods in Killington and across Vermont, I hear the birds in the nest on the eaves calling their mother for food.

Life is short, and it is sacred. This week, the wild tiger lilies along the road are gentle blessings. They appear with intricate detail and a splash of brilliant color, and then they disappear.

I define the ‘essence’ of this space as a place of connection, conservation, and justice. But what does that mean?

This month begins the creation of a new structure made of rock and root - the installation of ‘the Odeon’ on the land at Mission Farm.

Standing at the edge of the wilderness, we are invited to become a part of something larger.

John Audubon once said, “If there is a difference between the bird and what the field guide says, believe the bird.”

May you discover ways to be “idle and blessed” these summer days.