When the Raven Calls

A Sunday letter from Alchemy Farm, on the healing power of nature, presence, and small acts of remembering—plus a special oracle message from Raven

I very nearly didn’t write today, after four years of sending a Sunday email letter from Alchemy Farm.

I haven’t felt like I have much to say, and I’d rather write from a place of inspiration, instead of obligation. In truth, everything has seemed like a struggle of late. It’s taken all my energy to get-up-and-go, to just move through the day. It’s as if this malaise is picked up on the ethers, through the networks that connect us. At times, I’ve wondered why bother doing anything—I’m not used to being clouded this way.

I have a special raven friend who calls out greetings to me when I venture into the gardens. If he hasn’t seen me in a few days, he swoops down low and peers in my office window. This morning he cawed in passing, as if encouraging me to go outside. He was right—I needed to step away from the seduction of busy work on the computer. You’ll find a special message from Raven at the end of this post.

As I walked outside, I was thinking about you and how much I enjoy our ‘conversation’—I feel as if I’m writing letters to a dear friend each Sunday. I thought about what I could possibly share that might make a difference to your day, perhaps reach out to you in kinship, in case you too are feeling low and wishing for a different viewpoint—even for a bit.

I thought, I can write—that I can do. I can share the amazing place I am honoured to call home. I can send out beauty notes of love from all beings at Alchemy Farm, from my heart to yours… along with photos of the beauty that surrounds me, echoing the beauty of nature that also surrounds you too…

Today started out with a late frost that startled the field with its presence. The blue sky, dotted with voluminous clouds, reflected itself in the pond. The air carried the songs of hundreds of birds singing joy. The first bees, joined in—spring voices of hope. A few frogs that couldn’t wait for the night sky punctuated the daylight chorus with nocturnal notes.

The Salish Sea breeze weaves perfumes of blossoms—wild plums, salmonberry, pussy willows—heavenly fragrance of nature. The quick buzz of a hummingbird, playing hide-n-seek amongst the currant blossoms.

Walking through the gardens, welcoming old friends, some planted nearly a decade ago. Each one carrying a story of how it arrived in our gardens. The gorgeous peach-coloured peony gifted from a garden-loving neighbour. Alstroemeria from a friend’s English garden, carrying memories of her departed mother in every yellow bloom. Valerian, a gift that has spread throughout the gardens, has begun to emerge.

Periwinkle growing wild in places where no irrigation reaches—spots we thought would be bare—filled in as if by magic. Daffodils that were planted with friendship talks. A patch of sweet wood anemone that have somehow survived among the feet of raspberries, protected by nettles.

Tiny daisies poking out from the lawn, as if checking to see if it’s time to come out. Dainty blue flowers that look like stars, that seeded themselves into the gardens over the years. Hyacinth in white, pink, and purple, steadfastly bloom, adding to the perfume breeze.

As I gathered these thoughts, and images, to share with you, I was reminded that this is what is truly real. My remembering who I am, aided by the gifts of nature that surround us. These gifts for our hearts are free. Break the spell of being caught in things we can’t control—go outside. Feel the sun. Listen for the songs of nature. Let it heal your heart.

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Today I’d like to share the Raven card from the Eco Heart Oracle.

Raven—Loyalty 💜
From the Eco Heart Oracle

Raven’s Message
Raven appears in many cultures. In some, he is a sacred messenger between heaven and earth; in others, a symbol of loss, death, and even a trickster. Yet Raven is also a magician and a transformer, bringing light forward from darkness, a powerful ally between worlds.

Raven asks that you be loyal to your family and yourself—not to things or objects. Clean your nest, release what is no longer needed, and take stock of what truly matters.