Today, we are charged to remember. To know that as we live together in community, we are also in community with the silently singing lives in the vast congregation of the earth as well... Let us remember, and then act.

All organisms make ecological living places, altering earth, air, and water... In the process, each organism changes everyone’s world.

The changes that take place in winter are a kind of alchemy, an enchantment performed by ordinary creatures to survive.

Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson, is a novel that takes the form of a letter or journal that a dying, elderly Congregationalist minister in Gilead, Iowa, writes to his 7-year old son in 1956 – written so that one day the boy will know something about his father’s life and character. In this passage...

I grew up on my family farm in the southern part of Illinois. There was nothing about it that was a golden age. And I’m NOT nostalgic about the good old days. I don’t like carrying water from the well out back. I don’t like going to an outhouse at 4 a.m. in the snow. I don’t like the wasps...

I remember back to the 50’s and 60’s when, once a week, my mother would don her shirtwaist, climb into the family car, and make her way to the A&P. How did she choose her groceries then? In our family, in New England and a long way from the fertile, productive valleys of California, proximity...

On a deeper level, do we consider what we are eating and whether its origins are compatible with our personal values? Since the beginning of time, dietary practices have been incorporated into the religious practices of humanity....

I [do not] mean to present myself as some kind of bodhisattva of compassion. However, in my better moments—at least in my more conscious moments—while I’m eating, I do try to imagine the lives and even the deaths of the creatures who nourish me. I try to think of the freedom and exhilaration...

We mourn the lost lives—the eleven workers who died—and we know the heaviness that hangs over their families. We mourn the lost livelihoods. Many have had their lives changed: shrimpers, fishermen, those whose income depends on tourists, and those who work on oil rigs. They have been hit hard.

Squirrel: tch tch tch Sparrow: cheep cheep Mouse/mice: squeak squeak Frogs: ribbit needeep Tadpoles: ribribrib Grass: oooohhhh Pond: plip plop Peepers: peep peep peep Nighthawk: scree scree Daffodils: nodding head/trumpet sound It wasn't a particularly hard winter that year, but it was long and...