We have a number of small, sacred spaces, where we pick mulberries and pull invasive ivy for crafts and make mudpies and pick up trash and dig for mussles and catch crabs for our dinner and forage for wild strawberries and pick wildflowers and play hide and seek and hunt for rolly-pollies and chase skinks and climb trees, where we meet Nature embodied in the nature all around us. Some of these pictures I’ve shared before, and some of them I haven’t…but here’s a look at two of our small, sacred spaces (and one slightly larger one).
The park across the street, bordering a creek and some woods:
The beach by our old apartment (now just a couple miles down the road):
Belle Island, a small park (not many non-locals know about it, so I figured it counted, even though its a park!) right in the middle of Richmond–on an island in the middle of the river rapids (a foot/bike suspension bridge gets you there) that has been an Powhatan Indian village, then a colonial racetrack, a Confederate storage site and Civil War prison, a steel works, a quarry, and a hydro-elecrtric plant before becoming a park:
Where are yours?