Here is what April knows that we keep forgetting: the dogwood blooms by wounding. Each bract — what we call the petal — is a leaf that scarred itself open, a piece of tissue that tore at its margin and healed into something people drive across counties to witness. Guarded and radiant. Not one then the other. Both, in the same white face of the same flower, at the same time.

https://thistleandmoss.com/p/3-4-2026-mourning-a-loss
#meditation #spirituality #druid #earth #nature #eco #gaia #brigid #pagan #trans #queer #lgbtq

Mother of the earth, I am here. I come carrying two things today and they don't sit well together: the impulse to guard — to wall, to close, to cover the throat — and the radiance that keeps pushing up through the cracks like those damn redbud shoots that split asphalt. I lay them both here.

https://thistleandmoss.com/p/3-4-2026-mourning-a-loss
#meditation #spirituality #druid #earth #nature #eco #gaia #brigid #pagan #trans #queer #lgbtq