A Morning Dance with the Fu Dogs

A deer.

Glowing Fu Dogs.

Wet grass.

Golden hickories.

Cool Air. 

Nature's vibrations are strong here. There is a magic within this garden. It comes from deep in the woods and washes over those who enter. This morning, we are all one in this place. Time stands still and a fantasy world emerges. We are cloaked inside a golden bubble of peace and joy. All of sudden, we are friends in a blissful moment as the blue fu dogs come alive and start to frolic on the lawn. They play with the deer and invite more woodland animals to join them. I dance with the animals as nature's chorus builds to greet our day. Morning in the woods is fun. 

Note: I wrote this during a Writing Retreat at Allerton Park on October 2023. 

Connecting in Costa Rica

I wanted to connect with a tree in Costa Rica and feel closer to the plant world than ever before, but as my plane landed in San Jose, I had doubts about why I was traveling alone to a foreign country to spend time with mostly strangers, and face unknowns that usually cause me anxiety. Yet, everything worked perfectly. I found my driver and the three-hour drive to Finca Camino Nuevo was intoxicatingly beautiful through hills of green and mountain clouds. The closer we got, the more winding and hillier it got – and greener. I had my doubts again the first night at dinner when my introverted inner critic got the best of me. Yet, I did my best to meet everyone and do the initial get-to-know-you talk. Really, a retreat should be hard, and this is the hard part for me. Yet, by the end, it’s the people that provide the best memories. Everyone in this group was amazing and fun, without any drama or difficulties – just a fun group of playful friends. We were a diverse group, spanning all life stages and cultures, yet we connected in this magical place.

 

Figure 1. Attendees at 2024 Doors to the Wild Self: Costa Rica Cloud Forest Retreat with Bigger Life Adventures. Photo by Morgan Neufeld Photography.

At our opening ceremony I shared my intention to “connect spiritually to nature.” The yoga room contained many decorated doors and since the theme of this yoga retreat was “Doors to the Wild Self” we each picked a door that spoke to us. I was the last to arrive, arriving late due to a flight change, and didn’t have time to really examine the doors, so I chose the first one that looked like a tree. It was smaller than the rest and made of wood, representing a tree of life rooted in a jaguar, intertwined with a snake DNA, ending in owl filled branches reaching toward the moon/sun. 

Connecting to Trees and Other Plants

At first, I focused on the trees to find my spiritual connection to nature. Individual trees atop a faraway ridge provided a Drishti point that kept me balanced during morning yoga. 

Journal Entry - Monday, February 19, 2024, 10:30 a.m. Those trees helped me hold all the balancing poses without falling, including tree and warrior three. Carrie started us out slow with many holds and stretches to move our spine in all directions. We flowed a few times and then she invited us to try crow pose. I did it! It wasn’t perfect but I did get both feet off the ground for a few seconds. That was exciting. We ended the long session in supported bridge and savasana. I was so proud of myself. I even did some jump throughs from downward dog to forward fold. I really am improving and getting stronger, although I’m mostly more confident.

I connected spiritually to a tree during the first morning’s meditation. Carrie led us through various meditation techniques each morning.

Monday, February 19, 2024, 10:30 a.m. Though I had trouble calming my racing mind at first, I soon settled in and felt more tree-like. As I started to ground to this place, I felt my body and mind relax and my soul come alive – ready for a blissful week. A breeze blew around me through the open door, and I almost felt like a tree swaying in the magical vibes of this place. 

 

Figure 3. Building where we did meditation a few mornings.

Tree connections were strong as I played in a tree net, on the hill side behind our lodging, high above in a tall tree. 

Monday, February 19, 2024, 10:30 a.m. The hike to the tree net was straight up the hill behind our rooms. Arrows pointed the way up concrete block stairs to a large tree. We took off our shoes and each climbed up the rope net structure into the tree top. The climb up was enveloped in netting with round foot and hand holds. At the top a large net spread from limb to limb. We were part of the tree. After pictures we took it all in, noticing the fruit at the end of the branches high above us where it reaches for the sun. Magan climbed higher onto a large branch. Later Keria did the same, using Mir as a step to get up. Andrea videotaped her going up and down. As they said, “Four cackling women cheered her on while Mir gave her structural support.” She gracefully fell off into Mir’s support coming back down. What a fun time!

 

Figure 4. Hanging in the tree nets. Photo by Mir.

As I sat by a waterfall above the tree net, my connection to trees soon moved to other plants. Smaller plants began to speak to me with their movements and vibrations: palms, ferns, moss, lichens, and vines. 

Monday, February 19, 2024, 2:40 p.m. I climbed up the narrow, boulder lined, dirt path that wound around and around and up the hill. It went past water barrels with long hoses running up the mountain. I hiked past the tree net and up to a small waterfall. A trickle of water seeped over the edge and down a rock into a small man-made pool lined with plastic. More hoses ran to the top, which is where our fresh drinking water originates. We can safely drink from the faucets. 

    A small green bench was built into a tree, so I sat there a while and observed all that was around me. I took a couple of selfies, but mostly I marveled at the tropical plants. A large tree was up higher, possibly another strangler fig. I found myself focusing more and more on the smaller plants, such as small palms growing in the shade of the larger trees, ferns, dracaena, philodendron-like plants, big and small leaves, grape leaves, and vines. Along the rocky waterfall were ferns and wet lichens that sparkled in the ever-present water droplets. I heard a rustle in the leaf litter across the trail and saw a small animal coming towards me. It looked very opossum-like. I snapped a couple pictures, but it ran before it was close enough to see. I think it was a white nosed coati - a close cousin to a raccoon. 

 

Figure 5. Selfie by waterfall.

Connecting to Water

It rained the first few days with waves of misty rain moving through the forest, living up to its cloud forest name. On day two water began to have even more meaning. Carrie was guiding us through the chakras each day, and day two was the sacral chakra, whose element is water. That day our excursion was to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Biological Preserve.

Tuesday, February 20, 2024, 12:53 p.m. Our guide was the son-in-law of a conservationist that was the inspiration for the book “Walking with Wolf.” He showed us the path that his father-in-law constructed over many years from the reserve to the Arenal volcano, still maintained by his family. I liked our guide’s pace, walking slow and stopping many times to look around. He showed us a giant walking stick insect, tarantula in a hole near the path, and hummingbird nests. After smelling an onion odor, I got a glimpse of a pig (peccary) in the understory eating fruit dropped by the spider monkeys that played high above our heads. The monkeys were red and bigger than I expected, at least from our view far below. There were many birders there looking for the quetzal bird. We saw three of the rare birds that people come from all over the world to find. Our guide got some great pictures of it, and other birds, through his powerful scope, including a dark colored jay and several gnatcatchers. 

Figure 6. Quetzal bird in Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve. Photo through scope by our guide.

    We stopped at one strangler fig, and he used a flashlight to shine into the middle where a group of small black bats were hanging and playing. He explained that strangler figs begin by sprouting in the treetops as epiphytes and dropping long stands to the ground to root and grow, growing around another tree and eventually killing it. Several trees bind and braid round each other to form a tall tree. When the “host victim” tree dies, there is a hollow center. 

    He pointed out several plant families, many similar to plants at home. Coffee plants (not the drink type) had opposite leaves and sharp stipules at the base of the leaves. A smaller tree was a type of stinging nettle relative. There were gum trees, mahogany, tree ferns, and schefflera. Ferns and epiphytes, algae and lichens and mosses, and bromeliads all covered the trees and ground. Whole ecosystems lived high in the treetops. There weren’t a lot of colorful flowering plants, though he did point out a two-lip flower and a lobster plant.

    The first part of the forest was about 40-year-old secondary growth, but most of the reserve is old growth forest. It was dark, deeply shaded, and very wet. It rained and misted the entire time. I even got to use my backpack rain cover for the first time. I tried to keep my camera, binoculars, and phone dry too, though I had to keep wiping water off the camera lens. Our guide used an air bulb to dry it off. I need one of those.

    This is another place you must see to appreciate. There is no way to explain it. The magic of the cloud forest enveloped me as I walked through. I was amazed. I was in awe. At the waterfall area I started to cry at the overwhelming beauty. A tall waterfall flowed down a deep crevice into a deep canyon below. Green plants of all types were everywhere. A very tall strangler fig stood behind a tall tree fern, delicate and majestic, the ancient matriarch of the forest. And then it was over. Three hours passed in the blink of an eye.

 

Figure 7. Waterfall at Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve.

Later that day, back at Finca Camino Nuevo, sunshine through the mist created the first of many rainbows we saw during the week. It rained all during our sacral water day and I ended it in the jacuzzi having fun playing with my new friends. Sherry turned on a jet that turned the hot tub into a violent pot of boiling water. I had to prop myself up out of the rolling water. We turned it off quickly but back on again each time a new person entered the water. All day I easily flowed from activity to activity, enjoying all the people and getting to know several better. 

 

Figure 8. Rainbow at Finca Camino Nuevo.

Connecting to Animals

About midweek I started to notice more animals in addition to the plants. Magan showed me a picture of a beautiful blue bird behind the meditation hut. As I walked up to the waterfall, I saw it showing off in the trees, almost posing for the perfect picture with its bright blue tail swinging like a cuckoo clock. At the waterfall the coati probably would have gotten very close if I didn’t get scared and move enough to frighten it away. 

 

Figure 9. Blue-crowned Motmot at Finca Camino Nuevo.

Later that night after yin yoga I drew a mouse card from a shaman’s deck. The mouse card said that I need a meaningful project and to always keep moving. Hummingbirds extended that prophecy the next morning when they started to call to me outside the yoga studio. 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024, 6:30 a.m. I hear them outside the window and see them feeding on the flowers. Inside the yoga studio a door is painted with a hummingbird or two arising from a native man's flute. His music and breath combine to form beautiful birds as they escape with the flute’s music. His head is full of morning-glory flowers where maybe they go to feed. An all-knowing eye and fire from distant volcanoes oversee it all. Why hummingbirds? They are tiny but powerful, not afraid to show their multicolored ever-changing feathers. They are busy yet have a meaningful project. They love flowers and match their beauty. They fight and play, and rest, yet are always aware and not afraid to live in this big world.

 

Figure 10. Door that inspired Rhonda during the retreat.

During Carrie’s morning pranayama I saw my inner mentor (I call her White Clover) dancing in a field of flowers. I cried as I danced with her and lived a moment of bliss that I’ve dreamt about my entire life. White Clover told me to keep traveling and doing my projects, that I’m on a good path with more to come. Later while reflecting on Carrie’s daily journal prompts, an idea for a new project came to me – paint with creativity. 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024, 3:37 p.m. I think it'd be helpful to take an art class, maybe a beginner retreat where we use easels in nature to express our creativity, not just recreate a landscape, but give it new life and meaning. Like the hummingbird door in our yoga studio, how can I bring the landscape to life, bringing out the Green Man and magic and mystery of a place? Can I express the feelings and vibrations as they are revealed to me? This is an exciting idea that I often envision in my future. I want to learn how to flow and groove a space into art.

The next day I drew a hummingbird card from the Mystical Shaman Oracle Deck. That shocked me, yet I knew it was meant to be. The Oracle Guidebook said the hummingbirds “invite me to embark on my epic quest, bypass old pain, head for the flowers, and learn to trust the calling I softly hear.”

Bridging Connections at Selvatura

Day three found me connecting with trees and other plants at Selvatura Park. 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024, 3:37 p.m. I hiked eight swinging bridges high above the cloud forest. I walked alone in the wet forest, along cobblestone paths through dense vegetation. On the bridges I looked through the metal floors and sides to see the forest all around me. Far below a river raged. At times I was at ground level and other times I was above the trees merging into the cloudy sky. Here and there flowers bloomed. It is a slower place. A place to connect with nature in a timeless way, to live on their time. I took a few pictures and videos but there is no way to capture the depth and breadth of the space. It is deep in the ground, high in the sky, and all space in between. 

    There is a mysterious, magical presence there. I felt it in the tree fern leaves. I heard it in the rubbing branches and birdsong. I smelled the fresh woodsy air as oxygen released from the plant surrounding me and filling my lungs. I heard it in the river below and small waterfalls along the path. I saw it in the smallest lichens growing on the branches along the bridge, high above the ground. I saw the Green Man with all his magic and mystery in a bulged-out burl-like tree trunk. He smiled at me through his ferny hair strands. Earth's vibrations led me through the space, yet somehow, I feel them even stronger now in my memories. I took pictures with my eyes and ears and nose and hands that burn into my brain for safekeeping. Those special memories are part of me, and that magic will stay with me. Who knows when or how it will be revealed in my future or maybe in a future project or a future generation.

 

Figure 11. Hanging bridge at Selvatura Park.

Soulful Sound Connections

The element of sound was alive and prominent Wednesday evening during the sound bath. 

Wednesday, February 21, 2024, 9:00 p.m. He had his sound bowls (one for each chakra) and other instruments in the center of the room with gentle lights and incense burning. We each gave one word for how we felt. I was calm. Then we stood arm in arm in a circle and looked into each other’s eyes. He had water in a sound bowl and showed us how the vibrations cause the water to ripple and “boil.” We have water in our bodies and brain too and it too moves with the sound’s vibrations. We all laid down with our heads towards the instruments on pillows and covered with a blanket. 

    The experience is hard to describe. I felt the vibrations in all parts of my body. One instrument caused negative emotions and feelings of worry, dread, and heaviness in my chest. He said to let negativity flow in case I needed to work through something causing it. So, I let it be and soon it changed. I saw eyes, animals, and many faces. An African man came quickly in and kissed me. A woman smiling and radiant looked like an older, happy me. I was briefly in a room with a tall ceiling. At times my body shook and twitched. Most times it was subtle, but some sounds caused more intense twitching or vibrations. I also saw death. I thought I was lying in a stone coffin. I saw dead people, then a friendly cat blinked into view. Incredible!

 

Figure 12. Sound healing session. Photo by Zach.

It was relaxing and peaceful, yet also frightening. Yes, this all happened with sound. There were no chemical enhancements, just the music and magic of the place. Later Sue told me that seeing death represents the parts of me dying that I no longer need. She says it is all good, and that the faces and death were telling me to let go. I think they told me to let go of control and the past, to be authentic and real in the here and now. I had similar feelings of letting go during a meta savasana on Thursday, when I let go of an old friend and excess empathy.

 

Connecting Deeper 

Thursday deepened what I was already feeling. I felt more renewal through water’s power during a Watsu water massage. Finca Camino Nuevo owners Keith and Lauren are both Watsu therapists. 

Thursday, February 22, 2024, 12:51 p.m. Keith moved my body in the water while keeping my nose above water. My ears and sometimes parts of an eye were underwater. I tried to relax while he massaged and pushed and pulled and worked my various muscles, all while doing a sort of water dance. At first, I kept my eyes opened and I saw a hummingbird and brightly colored flowers, patches of sun, and the pool’s shade cloth flapping in the breeze. Again, I saw a face while my eyes were closed. Sue says faces are a sign I'm connecting to one or more of my inner spirits.

 

Figure 13. Pool at Finca Camino Nuevo.

That day I saw many more animals. I played in the tree nets with my new tribe and later alone, both times while observing a big and loud chachalaca bird (Crested guan?) in the trees. A squirrel cuckoo bird with a black and white blocky tail jumped around in the trees outside the lunchroom. That night we went on a night hike to see animals in the cloud forest. I was a little nervous being in the jungle at night, but our guide was very knowledgeable and knew what to look for. That night we saw frightening pit viper snakes in various sizes, miniature frogs, big tarantulas, and I felt like a jaguar was watching us. I also saw peaceful animals such as headlight beetles, blue crowned motmot, emerald toucanet, pale billed woodpecker, three wattled bellbird, and a mottled owl.  

 

Figure 14. Three-wattled Bellbird on night hike. Taken through scope by guide.

Night fear, especially of animals, is something I experience often, yet I now know the animals were not trying to scare me. Pixie Lighthorse said during our recent book study session that animals can also protect us. We need to find our animal spirit so that it can help guide us through the fears. Every night during this retreat (and often in other locations, including home), I experienced a severe sense of dread and impending doom that something was wrong. I purposely disconnected from technology and that was good, yet at night the disconnect left me scared and filled with excess empathy that a loved one was hurt or injured or worse. Pixie says our spirit animal can help with that unfounded fear, and I’m hoping that one of the deepest lessons this retreat gave me was how to let go of night fear and excess empathy. 

Connecting with Perci and the Forest

On our last full day, I finally let go and was free in the forest. 

Rhonda Climbing Perci. Photo by Zach.

Friday, February 23, 2024, 1:37 p.m. I climbed Perci! She welcomed me into her arms, sending me little foot and hand holds and encouraging me to keep going so that I could see her view of the cloud forest. She wanted me to see what she sees. My toes clung to the small parts of her. I used my arm strength and leg power to climb higher and higher. Zach gave me small boosts along the way serving as my belayer. I did two climbs. The first was harder. It wrapped around the tree. I rested several times to get my breath and look for the next hand and foot holds. Two thirds of the way up I had to unhook the upper rope so that I could climb higher. From there I hugged Perci and thanked her for gifting me this experience. Then I let go and Zach let me down. I hung in the air and felt free. Free to be me. Free to explore these wondrous places with these people. Free to absorb the energy of the forest in this magical place. 

  

Figure 15. Rhonda climbing Perci. Photos by Morgan Neufeld Photography.

    I rested a bit to stop the leg and arm shake, then went again. This time I climbed the red rope, with Raffi belaying. This was easier and I relaxed better into my harness and quickly climbed the first three-quarters of the way up, then it got trickier. But I persevered, like Perci’s name, and soon was at the top of that climb. I had Morgan and Magan take my picture to show how high I was. Then I repelled back down, giggling and laughing all the way. Playing like a child in a tall tree is life changing. I see how it could get addictive. Maybe Perci draws us to her. She seemed to embrace and soothe us yet challenge us to do and be more. 

    After the climb we all walked to the river to play more and cool down in the fresh clean water. We walked through the private, organic family farm of coffee and banana where Perci is located. Zach pointed out a black persimmon tree fruit. Morgan had us smell the big catalpa-like leaves with anise odor. I saw what looked like a vanilla vine growing up a tree. There were pepper plants here and there. Morgan had us put on natural lipstick from the achiote fruit seeds. We saw white faced monkeys in the trees. I got a glimpse of an animal with a long snout, maybe a tamandua. At the creek I zipped off my pant legs and soaked in the cool water. It felt good on my dirty, climbing feet, though we didn't have enough time there. The water rushed quickly over big boulders, rushing quickly between openings and into larger pools. Magan and Sasha swam across with Morgan. I sat and enjoyed the view and sensual cleansing of the mountain stream. A tall rock wall was on one side and tall trees and plants were everywhere. High above a bird soared. The air smelled clean and full of healing energy. I could taste the fresh air on my tongue and feel the smooth rocks and cool water. Mostly my soul soared like the bird, and I got the feeling - the one I get in nature sometimes - that moment of bliss when I know I belong and am one with all that is around me. I'm immersed into, and merged with, the spirit of the place.  

Connecting Through Play

Friday, February 23, 2024, 9:08 p.m. Wow! What an amazing, life changing experience. I feel free, light, young, happy, connected, and alive. Tonight was our closing cacao ceremony. We all brought things for the altar in the center and sat in a circle around it. I added plant parts to the communal offering: 

1. Purple flower mouse’s tail that the hummingbirds fed on outside the yoga studio while telling me to go on a quest without fear. 

2. Resurrection fern that taught me to look down to see the forest floor and know that my soul’s wild self is waking up. 

3. Palm frond that helped me look up instead of always focusing on trees, living open and free. 

4. Fig fruit from the tree net trees representing play and fun. 

    Zach gave a little info on cacao - its ceremonial properties and historical importance. It has calming, happy effects, though our group was already giggly and energetic. Zach also lit some incense and a smudge stick. After a moment of silence, we sipped our drink then one by one went around the circle to reveal our secret mission, give our word of the week, and then everyone said one word to describe us. I didn't do the mission. I mostly forgot but it was a hard one to find out everyone's pets names. My word was play. They described me as bad-ass, inspirational, very cool, intelligent, silent energy, and blooming. They were good descriptions. Afterwards we danced for a long time then partnered up. Sherry and I put hands on each other's hearts, looked into each other's eyes, and repeated phrases Carrie said. It was lovely and we had a long hug afterwards. We ended in a meditation to a song. Several people were emotional. We were raw and connected. 

 

Final Connections

I finally saw a monkey on the last day. Magan saw them all week, and though I saw a glimpse of a spider monkey at the reserve, the white-faced monkeys that lived above us all week eluded me. On my way to our final morning yoga, Magan was waving frantically at me to come to her and look above the buildings. We were in our morning quiet time, so she couldn’t tell me what was happening. I figured it out quickly and saw the white faces moving in the trees above. One stopped to stare at us, it's white face shining in the morning light; and we laughed, breaking the morning silence with glee to match the monkey’s call overhead. 

Carrie and Zach’s retreats are truly Bigger Life Adventures where they combine daily yoga with adventure, self-reflection, and new connections. We meditated every morning at 6:00 a.m. while observing our agreed upon quiet time. Most days we had an energizing morning yoga and a slow, yin evening yoga. In between Zach and his helper Selena, served us the most amazing vegan food. There is no way to describe Zach’s food creations, they must be experienced. I even ate bananas, which I have hated ever since a baby, yet Zach somehow added them without the strong taste that I detest. I can’t wait for his new cookbook later this year. 

Between morning and evening yoga sessions, we had excursions, free time, and classes where we learned about yoga philosophy and ayurveda. One afternoon, I did a photo shoot with Morgan Photography. I wore my yoga clothes and she had me pose in monstera leaves, twirl around on the path, and hang out in the tree net. It was fun. She said I looked great, and her pictures are remarkable. I certainly don't feel 60. Instead, I have the energy and ambition of the woman that I am meant to be in this stage of life.

  

Figure 16. Photo shoot during yoga retreat by Morgan Neufeld Photography.

I spent many hours sitting on my room’s balcony writing and reading while watching the ever-changing landscape ebb and flow in front of me. 

Monday, February 19, 2024, 2:40 p.m. Wow! This view is amazing from the balcony. For a moment the clouds or mist dissipated, and I could see the Gulf of Nicoya. At first, I thought it was low hanging clouds, but binoculars proved different period now it is gone, and I see curtains of rain moving across the trees. It is pouring rain, and the sun is out. I saw a glimpse of a rainbow then it was gone. Later, and most evenings, a large rainbow came out, often double or triple rainbows in brilliant, fluorescent hues.

 

Friday, February 23, 2024, 1:37 p.m. It's a perfect sunny day with a slight breeze. The view goes on and on across layer after layer of forest, all the way to the Gulf of Nicoya. It is hazy far away. Some layers are bright green, other shadowy black, others gray and hazy, here and there a green clearing appears on the hillside or on top of a crest. Closer trees have various shades and hues of green and occasional branches showing through the foliage. 

 

Figure 17. View from Rhonda's room of the Gulf of Nicoya.

Through this retreat - and a morning yoga exercise - my new mantra going forth is “My tribes and nature build my creative and blissful soul.”  The “Doors to my Wild Self” opened wide during this retreat as I connected to nature, to other yogis, and to myself – body, mind, and soul. As I left, I vowed to continue the light playful spirit I found as I pursue new and bigger connections in the future. 

Note: Bigger Life Adventures is booking future retreats in Costa Rica and other locations now. They fill fast so reserve your space today and you too can have a life changing experience. 

A Colorful Fall Hike at Dickson Mounds Museum

It is a perfect autumn day (10-22-23) for a solo hike at Dickson Mounds State Museum. There is a slight cool breeze that rustles leaves in the treetops. As I look across the prairie from where I sit at picnic hill, the tree line is full of fall color. Varying shades of red, orange, and yellow stand out among the yet green leaves. Most spectacular to me are the burnt orange sassafras and golden yellow hickory leaves. Along the edge are deep burgundy leaves of the gray dogwood shrubs, accented with pale white berries. Bright red blackberry and sumac are striking against other nearby plants.  

Colorful trees along the prairie. 

Blackberry leaves. 

Sumac. 

I hiked the yellow prairie trail first so that I could warm in the sun. I also had better views of the changing trees from outside the woodland. Along the trail a tree caught my eye that was full of blue berries, yet the leaves were golden and shaped like a mulberry tree’s leaf. This was not mulberry fruit, nor the leaves of a cherry tree that has similar looking fruit. Upon closer examination I saw that a wild grape had wound around a mulberry so tightly, that the trees seem to merge into one. I’ll call it a mul-grape tree. Wrong but spectacular.

Mul-Grape tree.

Upon entering the green wood’s trail I immediately climbed downward on a much narrower path. I passed a massive white oaks (Boy, what they've seen over the years.), and then my path was blocked by a large white oak’s fallen branch. I used my trekking pole to maneuver across and through it, continuing down to the more open bottom land. There, among the mostly spent fall wildflowers, was a perfect little Black-Eyed Susan, which I always think looks like a Jerusalem artichoke. I thought about this museum and how I'd tasted the Jerusalem artichoke at an event here once. Winding around and back up the hill I heard a loud crash off to my right in the woods. I knew it had to be a hedge ball. Sure enough, around the next bend were oodles of freshly fallen hedge balls. I'm sure glad one didn't fall on my head and knock me out. There are a lot of invasive plants here. Burning bush, barberry, garlic mustard, honeysuckle, and autumn olive are way too prevalent. Though, there is also a diversity of many nice native plants here too. 

White Oak tree. 

Black-Eyed Susan

Sugar Maples in yellow through the woods.

On the way back to my car, I hiked the red trail and passed under the sassafras trees that I'd seen from across the prairie. It was a large sassafras grove, all intertwined with somewhat spooky, crooked, and gnarly branches that reached high to the sky. There, their orange, red, and yellow leaves shone brightly, illuminating and brightening the spooky scene beneath.

Sassafras leaves and more cover the path.

Sassafras tree canopy. 

Such a peaceful day for a fall hike. As I gaze at the bright blue sky with wispy white clouds above the tree lines kaleidoscope of color, I'm reminded how blessed I am to live here. The changing seasons are not only beautiful but guide us through our own cycles. This is the season to slow down and give thanks for this hip, happy, healthy, beautiful life I have.

On the way home several cars slowed or stopped in front of me, appearing lost. They either turned around (to go back to the orchard) or turned into the Emiquon Preserve or the Emiquon Refuge. How wonderful to see people enjoying this perfect fall day too. I loved seeing small children playing at the orchard and people so fascinated by water birds wading in Lacey Ditch that they had to pull over to see them closer. That is why we live here, where we can observe nature up close and personal, without huge crowds. As a friend always said, “I don't know why millions of people don't live here, but I'm glad they don't.”

Camping at Rice Lake with Cousins

Four years ago, I camped at Rice Lake State Fish and Wildlife Area with my cousins and remember finding magic while kayaking among the flooded trees. 

April 23, 2019. Such a beautiful place to kayak. As Eric and I entered the water there were trees all around us coming out of the flood waters. One tree was a combination cottonwood and river birch – the cottonwood grew completely around the trunk of the birch. It really felt like I was in the swamps of S. IL. We stopped and watched carp spawn for a long time. We saw blackbirds chase an owl, lots of ducks and a goose. A carp spooked me at one tree root area. 

Figure 1. Cottonwood tree growing around a River Birch at Rice Lake in 2019.

Figure 2. Video of kayaking under flooded trees at Rice Lake in 2019.

We returned in 2023 to camp again, this time with even more relatives and friends. I found a different magic this time. I felt it while walking with Mark under those same trees - a feeling of calm looking at the lush, bright-green vegetation growing over the sometimes-flooded ground. I felt it while floating in my kayak under the shoreline willow trees and watching the birds around me. I felt it when I sat at the campfire and looked high into the trees above me – their new, fresh, leaves sparkling against a crystal-clear blue sky. I felt it low to the ground, in the middle of the campground, where the creeping jenny and creeping Charlie buzzed with bumblebees and red admiral butterflies. 

Figure 3. Vegetation growing in campground at Rice Lake in 2023. 

Figure 4. Walking in formerly flooded area of trees at Rice Lake in 2023.

This time it occurred to me that camp was a mixture of nature and man. At first glance this did not all appear magical to me at all because I wanted more nature than manmade influences. Yet, upon further reflection, both led to a form of magical enchantment and a lovely experience. 

During this trip, I enjoyed good times with my fellow man (family) at camp. Nature added to that experience with birds flying low through camp or an odd duck call making us wonder, “What was that?”. Military planes caught our attention by flying low overhead one evening at dusk. A loud bang and black smoke caught our attention after a deadly accident on the highway nearby. 

At first, traces of man visibly caught my attention in a negative way. There was quite a bit of trash on the lake and shores, mostly from duck hunters. Too much debris, in my opinion, was left over from the previous winter’s duck blinds. When we walked under the low water trees, there were shot gun shells in the mud. It bothered me that those plastic and metal pieces will likely be there forever. 

Figure 5. Duck Blind at Rice Lake.

In the water, the introduced, invasive Asian carp continues to fill the lakes and rivers throughout this area. Yet, over time I began to realize how good always finds a way to outweigh the bad. Orion Briney and his commercial fishing crew worked long days to remove thousands of pounds of Asian carp, taking them to a processor for better use. Compared to previous years, we caught more, and larger, bullhead in the daily trot line hauls. We had begun to think they were gone and were happy to see them return. There are eagles nesting in several places along the lake. Pelicans and swans stay year-round. I even saw masses of green ash resprouting where their parents had died from the man-introduced Emerald Ash Borer. 

Figure 6. Commercial fishermen bringing in Asian carp harvest.

Figure 7. Eagle Nest at Rice Lake.

Figure 8. Green Ash tree saplings.

Yes, nature does endure at this very pretty lake. Among the many plants I noted, the majority are native. Blooming in camp were common chickweed, dandelion, creeping Charlie, white clover, butterweed, and small-flowered buttercup. Creeping jenny (Lysimachia hummularia) lushly grew in the wetter areas. 

Figure 9. Creeping Charlie (purple flower) and creeping Jennie (smooth round leaves)

Figure 10. Bumblebee working flowers on Creeping Charlie and white clover plants

Walking under the lowland trees, I encountered river birch, elm, cottonwood, boxelder, silver maple, green ash, and a variety of forbs including poison ivy, stinging nettle, wild chervil, and bedstraw. 

Figure 11. Wild chervil (Anthriscus sylvestris) in bloom under trees. 

Figure 12. Bedstraw and stinging nettle.

In the following journal entries, I describe the plants and animals that I experienced from the water while in my kayak or jon boat. 

April 25, 2023. I took the kayak out for a couple hours, paddling up the edge past one eagle next and almost to the other one. Sitting by an old willow tree that’s just starting to sprout spring leaves. All around are buttonbush and mallow, still in winter darkness. The expansive lake is just beyond the shrubbery. Birds are active here. Swallows fly in and around two large dead trees, chirping and singing. A redwing blackbird calls here and there. I scared up several ducks and coots on my paddle here. On the way back to shore I watched a slender white bird dive several times (Could it be a tern?). 

April 28, 2023. It was a nice day yesterday. I sat by the camper and read my book, then Mark and I took a boat ride. We first went to the dam area. As we approached a few pelicans swam out onto big lake from the dam. Later a mute swan swam in that lake. Along the dam levee a small shorebird worked for food among the plants and rocks. A few redwing blackbirds hopped around there too. We could hear many blackbirds in the tree line nearby. So much warmer and smoother on the water then the day before. We moved around the lake a few times though we never got any bites on our lines. Still, it was very nice on the water. 

Figure 13. Captain Mark.

Figure 14. Pelicans at Rice Lake dam.

Figure 15. Sandpiper along dam.

Figure 16. Fishing from Jon boat

In the afternoon I went for a kayak ride the other direction. I paddled next to shore by the old cattail beds. A couple times I floated under willow trees to sit and take it all in. The willow’s vibes mix well with the blackbird calls. Carp and gar work amongst the cattail reeds. I went past the big eagle nest and although I saw an eagle, though it never went to the nest. 

Figure 17. Red headed blackbird.

Figure 18. Kayaking under willow trees.

It’s a simple, slow, enjoyable life at this lake. Some things stay the same when camping with cousins at Rice Lake. They do a lot of cooking and fishing. But mostly we sit around the fire and reminisce. Although I don’t like all the manmade influences at this lake, I do have a different perspective on some of them. Regardless, the slow pace and nature’s beauty all around us made for pleasant days, and I look forward to returning next year. 

Figure 19. Family and friends around the campfire.

Tree Meditations - a 40 Day Sadhana

I'm completing a 40 day meditation sadhana as part of a learning journey in my online yoga studio. For two years I've been working on completing the seven step program in the Body, Mind, and Soul Yoga Studio. This is the final step. For 40 consecutive days I will do the same meditation daily. I chose a meditation from the CALM app by Jeff Warren titled "Rooted." It is a 10 minute meditation imagining I am a tree. Each day a different tree comes to mind and gives me insights into its positive qualities and intentions to include in my daily life. Each day I will add the daily tree below. 

Day 1 (July 24, 2023) - Cherrybark Oak (Quercus pagoda) from Heron Pond in Southern Illinois reminds me to be happy and loving. 

Rhonda by Cherrybark Oak at Heron Pond in 2019.

Day 2 (7-25-23) - Ponderosa Pine (Pinus ponderosa) is fun, strong, hip, colorful, and proud. 

Giant ponderosa pine at LaPine State Park in Oregon,
considered to be the largest of its kind in the world. Taken 7-9-23. 

Day 3 (7-26-23) - Japanese Maple (Acer japonica 'Osakazuki') my shade garden is patient, peaceful, graceful, and kind. 

Japanese Maple in my shade garden on 7-26-23. 

Day 4 (7-27-23) - Banyan (Ficus benghalensis) in Edison Home in Ft. Myers, Florida. I pictured myself sitting behind its many trunks where she reveals her social, friendly, cool, welcoming nature. 

Banyan tree at Edison Home in 2016.

Day 5 (7-28-23) - Black walnut (Juglans nigra). I pictured a big, old tree in the yard where I grew up in Canton, IL. I don't have a picture of it, but this picture is of an offspring from that tree that my Dad transplanted (with my niece Tiffany in the swing). Black walnuts are strong and defenders of themselves. They teach us to watch out for ourselves and remember to look for the emotional and spiritual side of things, not always focusing on power and money. A great tree! 

Black Walnut tree in Canton, IL about 1996. 

Day 6 (7-29-23) - White Pine (Pinus strobus) is soft, flexible, and resilient. 

White pine that Derek planted as a sapling in 2003 that he got in the 3rd grade.
Photo taken in 2020. 

Day 7 (7-30-23) - Eastern cottonwood (Populus deltoides) is soft, big, and a sentinel of the shoreline. 

Tyler in 2013 by a large cottonwood at my parents home.
I cried when they cut it down. 

Day 8 (7-31-23) - Honey locust (Gleditsia triacanthus) is lethargic and slow.

Day 9 (8-1-23) - White oak (Quercus alba) is the Mother of the forest - loving and caring. 

Large white oak in 2020 on trail at Dickson Mounds Museum. 

Day 10 (8-2-23) - no specific tree came to mind. I thought of many and felt a grounding to the earth. 

Day 11 (8-3-23) - Silver maple (Acer saccharinum) made me feel radiant and free. 

Silver maple in our front yard on 8-3-23.

Day 12 (8-4-23) - Bristlecone Pine (Pinus longaeva) tells me to embrace time and place. This tree is old and content where it is due to adaptability, resiliency, and joyful living. 

Rhonda hiking the Bristlecone Pine trail at Great Basin National Park in 2022. 

Day 13 (8-5-23) - Pin oak (Pinus palustrus) lives with strength, structure, and stability and so will I. 

Pin oak at St. Louis Botanial Garden in 2012.

Day 14 (8-6-23) - Willow (Salix alba) represents fluid, flexibility, freedom, and whimsy. 

Willow in the Portland, Oregon Chinese Garden in 2009.

Day 15 (8-7-23) - Banana is fun, supple, and bouncy. 

View of banana from my meditation pillow. 

Day 16 (8-8-23) - Pecan (Carya illinoinensis) reminds me to "live by the precept of the Honorable Harvest - to take only waht is given, to use it well, to be grateful for the gift, and to reciprocate the gift." Source: Braiding Sweetwater Grass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, page 20-21.

Sitting under the pecan tree,
watching my husband and dad harvest vegetables. 

Day 17 (8-9-23) - Forest Bathing (no specific tree came to mind during today's meditation)

Day 18 (8-10-23) - Hawthorn (Crataegus sp.) sent me vibes of confidence, boundaries (defense), sharing, and radiance while also revealing its spring flowers, summer shine, fall fruit, and winter structure. I pictured the hawthorns at Canton's Lakeland Park that I used to water while working there in college-year summers. 

Day 19 (8-11-23) - Bur Oak (Quercus macrocarpa) - is burly, strong, stable, and a leader. 

Day 20 (8-12-23) - Birch (Betula sp.). Immediately as my meditation began I felt myself under a large river birch (B. nigra) while kayaking flooded Rice Lake in 2019, then I went to the paper birch (B. papyrifera) while canoeing and camping the boundary waters in 1976 & 1977, and finally to the water birch (B. occidentalis) of the Great Basin the past couple years. Each time I was at ONE with nature. 

River birch (left) growing out of a cottonwood tree at Rice Lake. 

Day 21 (8-13-23) - Black cherry (Prunus serotina) - I sat beneath a grove of black cherry in our woods to meditate and felt at one on the Earth. 

Day 22 (8-14-23) - Witchhazel (Hamamelis x intermedia 'Arnold Promise') - When she explodes with blooms before everything else in the garden, she gets so excited. She bursts open and starts spring early, showing off her brilliance to the world, then relaxes and enjoys summer sun and rain. She feels tingles when someone touches her then sleeps soundly through the winter. A fun little tree/shrub that is also healing, medicinal, and sacred. 

Witchhazel on March 4, 2020

Day 23 (8-15-23) - Eucalyptus stands tall next to the Pacific ocean, welcoming monarch butterflies to overwinter in its branches. It teaches us to be fun, friendly, free, and colorful. 

Monarch in a Eucalyptus at Pismo Beach Monarch Sanctuary on 2-18-2021

Day 24 (8-16-23)- Joshua Tree - patient, sun loving, peaceful, and slow

Rhonda at Joshua Tree National Park on 1-31-2022.

Moved to Self-Guided practice using nature sounds music and a timer. 

Day 25 (8-17-23) - Costa Rica Jungle 

Tree Fern in Costa Rica in 2013

Day 26 (8-18-23) - Douglas Fir - I selected a Northwest sounds video and meditated from a Douglas Fir tree. I felt clean, clear, unique, timeless, and expansive. 

Douglas Fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) Grand Tetons National Park, 9-5-2021.

Day 27 (8-19-23)  California oaks - unpredictable, long-lasting, grumpy

Rhonda ‎⁨in Los Osos Oaks State Natural Reserve⁩, ⁨Los Osos⁩, ⁨California⁩, on 2-7-2021.

Day 28 (8-20-23) - Sycamore - resilient and radiant

Sycamore at Ferree Home

Day 29 (8-21-23) - River trees - I was a bird in the tree along the Illinois River at Anderson Lake. I flew across the lake to the river and sat, watching the river flow by. Later I flew to a tree in the forest and watched the lightning bugs wake up and sing all around. I was an owl, silent, wise, and all-seeing. 

Rhonda sitting in tree along Illinois River on. 8-14-2019.

Day 30 (8-22-23) - Forest Songs of peace and positive vibes

Lusk Creek Nature Preserve in Southern Illinois

Day 31 (8-23-23) - University of Illinois Quad trees sent me wisdom, clarity, and intuition.

University of Illinois Quad on 10-24-2014

Day 32 (8-24-23) - Backyard pond and green ash (Fraxinus pennsylvanica) tree.  I heard the sound of wind chimes and water trickling. I started in a park by water, then a botanical garden, and ended in my own backyard feeling at peace in the warm vibrations of love and home. I am at home on earth with my biggest family "tree." 

Green Ash tree at end of garden pond in my backyard.

Day 33 (8-25-23) - Monterey Cypress (Cupressus macrocarpa) - I saw the Lone Cypress at 17 mile drive where it stands in the harsh elements content in space and time. 

Lone Cypress on 17 mile drive, Pebble Beach, Monterey, CA.

Day 34 (8-26-23) - Spring flowering trees: Flowering redbud, magnolia, and dogwood reminded me to start each day with new hope, energy, and grace. 

Yellow Butterflies Magnolia with redbud in background in 2019 at my house. 

Day 35 (8-27-23) - Sugar Maple (Acer saccharum) is sweet, friendly, and positive.

Sugar maple in Mississippi Palisades State Park in 2020.

Day 36 (8-28-23) - White birch (Betula paperifera). I did this meditation while riding behind Mark on our Triumph Tiger motorcycle through the Pictured Rocks National Shoreline area. The white birches around me stood out as elegant, delicate, and pretty. 

White birch at campground in Upper Michigan, 2023. 

Day 37 (8-29-23) - Upper Forest trees - part of them all in Upper Michigan.

Day 38 (8-30-23) - Eastern hemlock (Tsuga canadensis) 

Day 39 (8-31-23) - Any tree in the Upper Forest

Day 40 (9-1-23) - All trees. I"m part of Earth's Family "Tree"

View from my last day's meditation at Island Lake National Forest Campground, Upper Michigan, September 1, 2023.