Inspiration

Freshly Laundered & Hanging Out to Dry
Barbara June Applegren has written a new book called "Freshly Laundered & Hanging Out to Dry", about her experiences on the second Sherborne course. It is being serialized on the Bennett Books Web site. (See links below)

Start Here
Forward and Chap 1, Part 1
Chap 1, Part2
Chap 1, Part 3
Chap 2
Chap 3, Part 1
Chap 3, Part 2
Chap 4
Chap 5
Chap 6, Part 1

At Camp Caravan, we remove our scapes (the flowering tops of the garlic plants) and then make tasty dishes. Group member Penelope Sullivan provides this art work and recipe. Enjoy!

Great Scape Garlic Pesto Recipe

In the name of the daybreak
and the eyelids of morning
and the wayfaring moon
and the night when it departs,

I swear I will not dishonor
my soul with hatred,
but offer myself humbly
as a guardian of nature,
as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder,
as an architect of peace.

In the name of the sun and its mirrors
And the day that embraces it
and the cloud veils drawn over it
and the uttermost night
and the male and the female
and the plants bursting with seed
and the crowning seasons
of the firefly and the apple,

I will honor all life
---wherever and in whatever form
it may dwell---on Earth my home,
and in the mansions of the stars.

~ Diane Ackerman

A crisp clear winter morning at Camp Caravan.
The sun is low in the sky,
At this time of year.
It comes in angled,
Shining on faces at the breakfast table.
Outside the frozen ground lies waiting,
Recuperating.

We too are recuperated.
More than one world is here.
The physical world of sense perceptions
And the invisible behind appearances.

The unseen world brings us here.
It has a life we rarely see or hear,
Inexpressible.
We come to quench a thirst,
Maybe catch a glimpse,
Of what this world can offer,
Meaning, connection, harmony, participation, work.

Martin Brown, MREC

Where is God now?

My father said:
God is in Sari Kamish
Fastening happiness to the tops of trees
Making double ladders
So that people and nations can ascend and descend.
In the evenings
He sat outside and looked at the stars.
Nothing disturbed his inner peace
So long as there was bread
And quiet for meditation.

I wished with all my heart
To be such as I knew him to be
In his old age.

Where is God now?
On Rue des Colonels Renard
I sit in the attitude he taught me
An old man
In my ears the sounds of children's voices
Monsieur Bon Bon
Feeling the sun warm
The ruin of my body
I breathe God
In and out.

Pierce Butler
writer-in-residence
Bentley University