Adeline Chapter Four: mother earth

“The earth will take care of my body, and the Lord will take care of my soul.”

I was a rarity. That’s what Jack called me. A rarity.

“Momma, where are you going? Can I come with you?”

“No, Itsy, you need to stay home. I’m taking a Momma break.”

Itsy hated it when I walked off alone. She was a growth on my hip, that child was.

“Itsy, you stay with me,” Jack called to her. “Let your Momma have a little break now. Let’s go swimming with the others, you and me.”

Jack would take her by the hand and join the rest of the kids at the water.

“Don’t you go too far now, Adie,” he’d holler over his shoulder, dragging Itsy along. She’d look back with watery eyes, stumbling her way to the lake. “Don’t be so long that I worry.”

“There’s nothing out there to worry about, Jack. I’ll be along.”

And I’d wander away from the cabin and walk in the woods all alone. I was never afraid, just in love with how different it was from the rest of the world, in love with what it had to offer if you just went looking.

I liked to feel the earth breathe around me and the trees whisper as a light breeze blew on through. It moved gently through the boughs and passed softly through the needles, until the trees whistled a breathy, quiet tune. It was a serenade from the giants of the forest, a lullaby.

I always walked deep into the forest, hiking up old trails that led to more old trails. I never found the end of them without ending up on the other side of the mountain, that’s how far they went. The pine scent invaded my nostrils, sticky-like and sweet. It would last for days, as if my sinuses had been coated with a fine pine film. It was intoxicating to me.

There was a small but steady stream that meandered through the forest, refreshing everything in its path, watering the earth. Eventually, it made its way to the lake like a long, sleepy snake, winding around the forest, under fallen trees and layers of brush. A lazy stream, one with all the time in the world.

Up the trails I would go, taking my sweet time and feeling my mind empty as I attached my senses to the beauty surrounding me. If I hadn’t had Jack and the children to take care of, I do believe I would have simply become one with the forest, I loved it so much.

After a time, the trail leveled off a bit and came to a clearing all drenched in sunshine. I loved to lie down on the warm forest floor, heated and well padded with a thick layer of leaves and pine needles, soft and musty from the heat of the day.

I knew it had been put there special, just for me.

I would close my eyes and stretch out my arms and legs to feel as much of the earth as I could, feel it under my flesh and my bones. I would hear the soft whistle of the pine trees singing, soak up the warmth from above and below me, inhale the power and force of the earth.

She spoke to me, comforted me, let me know that one day I would be one with her, a part of her and the trees and the lazy stream.

I’ve never been afraid of death because of the understanding I have with my earth and with my God. The earth will take care of my body, and the Lord will take care of my soul. And I would be struck by knowing that there was no other place like this on earth. I felt sorry for everyone who wasn’t us, everyone who would never experience what we had, what I had in those times, all to myself.

Beanie dear, have you ever tasted the richness of the soil of the earth? Felt it in your skin, breathed in its distinctive scent?

“No, Nanna. I never really had a chance.”

Well dear, there is nothing like it. Nothing as real or as basic in our existence as the soil of the earth. Sometimes love for a place can get so big inside you that ordinary touching isn’t enough.

I remember one time, I removed my clothing. Yes, I did. I needed the touch of the earth on my flesh so badly, desperately. I lay down naked, ground into the cradle of the earth as tightly as I could fit, and felt it move my body. My blood flowed as the power of nature moved it through my veins.

My bed was lined with warm pine needles and leaves and moss just green enough to be tender on my skin. I felt its heartbeat, the heartbeat of Mother Nature, and her breathing, like a steadily building earthquake, slowly rumbling under the earth’s crust.

I felt my pulse quicken with the earth’s breath and with the gentle rise as she inhaled. And as she exhaled, my stomach clenched in a spasm and tightened, cramping until I rolled into a ball. Then the power of gravity surrounded her exhale and drew my belly in tight to my spine, drawing blood out from between my legs.

It stained the rich soil, richer now with a part of me forever there.

Tears ran down the sides of my face, warmed by the sun. Tears of contentment and passion, running down my face to mix with the part of me I was leaving behind with Mother Earth that day, as she moved my body and my soul.

I have felt such power, such life and passion in few instances, childbirth being one of them, and the victory I claimed the night I spent on the mountain being the other. On that night, I was more acutely alive than I have ever been, yet at the same time, I have never ridden so closely on the cusp of death.

“Are you glad you went, Nanna?”

Oh, yes, Beanie. It was something started that needed to be finished before leaving this world. I believe I’ve completed everything now. I do wish I could go home with you today.

“You’ll get to soon, Nanna. Soon.”

Adeline continues next week with Chapter Five.