We had a sacred food day, making a dinner of food solely from our land. This morning I woke up and killed a rooster (had to be done, there are too many and they over sex the hens) and then this afternoon harvested corn, tomatoes, turnip, rutabaga, banana pepper, garlic, green beans, and basil.
We live in a world where the sacred has been vanquished. I spent the day thinking about what the word even means. To me, the sacred is that which I find to be divine, and which I would die for.
My land is sacred. This place is holy and I am humble as it keeps me despite my bungling and my ignorance. These woods turn and hum with life so magnificently complex I couldn’t hope to ever grasp it all in totality. Instead, I say thank you.
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