The Postrock Limestone Caryatids and friends give thanks

by Rachel Creager Ireland

Greetings and Happy Thanksgiving all. Today I thought I’d invite some of my friends to share their thanksgivings. I suppose I’ll start with myself, Veronica Speedwell. I’m grateful for the land, the Flint Hills, the soil, the life supported here. I’m grateful for the nature spirits and wildflowers, somnolent as they are in this fall of the year. I’m grateful for community and to have a place here, to have a purpose that suits me well. Next up . . .

Melch Weaver: I’m grateful for history, and for those before me who saw fit to save some history for my benefit. I’m hopin’ to leave some for those after me, though doesn’t look too likely there’ll be anyone to pick up where I’ll eventually leave off.

Marlo: I’m so deeply grateful to be part of the process of regenerating life, to have women to work with who are still willing to birth babies the way our bodies were meant to. It is a rare privilege. I’m also grateful to the people in our community, who all work so diligently together to make a living for us all.

Starla Winnie: Hm, I’m grateful for my friends, for music, for the road, for freedom.

Mando Winnie: I’m grateful for my mando. Grateful for ethanol, which gets me around. Grateful for wide open spaces and for the Pecan Grove, a home to come back to for a few weeks every year.

Rachel Creager Ireland: I’m grateful for everything. Every every every thing, for joy and pain and sadness, fear, anger, ecstasy, love, rage, peace, sleeping, waking. Every feeling, every minute, every thought, each tiny piece of the big picture of what it is to be human, to be alive, really alive, right now, imagination intact and heart open. I’m grateful for inexplicable waves of ecstatic gratitude, and I am deeply, inexpressibly grateful to all of you who are on this awesome journey with me. Blessings. Shalom. Namaste.

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