Sunday, 20 March was perfectly sunny and 50ºF. The deep snow of a few days before was melting slowly into the ground. With Jasmine Deli mock duck sandwiches (no butter), D & I headed to the Mississippi River, to our favorite deep gorge with its hidden rocky beaches and cave of white ice.

In the cave we performed a mystic herb ceremony. We had agreed that after the ceremony we would not speak at all, and only communicate, if needed, by other means. D called this "Monkhouse."

You know, sometimes (especially when out in nature) you want to share the experience with someone, but not necessarily be talking about other things. Sometimes people walk through the woods together talking about baseball or business deals. What's with that?

We filled our ice cave with sweet smoke. The translucent ice glowed from the sun behind it.

Once together in silence, D & I exited the cave. D climbed over the cave onto the muddy ridge above, while I shot some video and then descended the slushy gorge.

I was overwhelmed by scenes of exquisite beauty! Far too many to record. Walking along through otherwise undisturbed snow, I came upon a patch riddled with blueberry-sized holes. Had there been a sudden shower of water here? On shore, a tree with massive root-tentacles grew around a huge boulder of fallen limestone, its roots appearing like legs straddling the rock. Newborn insects crawled in and out of crevices. Honking Canada geese followed the river north. I saw fuzzy little buds on a branch! Spring!

We goofed around on the rocky shore, and then settled down to meditate. We found nearby but seperate patches of rock to lay down in the bright sun of 13:00. I laid my head between exposed tree roots and focused on my breathing until I was overcome by peace. It was so warm, I took off my boots and socks to expose them to dear ultraviolet light.

During this meditation, I actually came to terms with the existence of the United States! (More on that later.) This was an extreme peace.

The Spring Equinox is New Year's Day, people. The 25th of March was New Year's Day until 1751. January 1st was chosen by some old pope! It has nothing to do with the natural progression of the seasons. Some ancient cultures celebrate November 1st as New Year's. For me, though, the first day of spring, when the day and the night are of equal length, and fertility begins to bloom in all life forms-- this is the first day of the new year.

March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March.