Crouched down in the meadow, intently harvesting clover blossoms, I was startled by the sudden sound of barking. Looking up, I felt alarmed to see two dogs rushing toward me, barking frantically. I instantly stood up, and as they got closer, I could see quite clearly that this was no playful and friendly greeting. They weren’t huge dogs, but as they screeched to a halt just a few feet from me, barking angrily, baring their teeth and frothing at the mouth, I was not feeling comfortable at all. Okay, to be blunt, I could feel a frisson of fear creep up my back as I contemplated the possibility of those pearly white canines sinking into my calf muscles or lunging for my jugular.

I have not been in this situation too often in my life, but on the few occasions that I have been cornered by a dog that looks like he wants my blood, I generally resort to the time honored tradition of standing stock still while shooting my eyeballs in every direction, frantically looking for the human owner who will rescue me by calling off their beasts.

There she was. The owner. Quite a distance away and sauntering in an unhurried fashion down the path while her dogs menaced me. “Call off your dogs!!!!”, I shouted at the top of my lungs. I could not hear a response, but after a few moments (that felt like forever) the dogs turned hesitantly and ran back towards their mistress, although periodically looking back over their shoulders as if they might be having second thoughts. Their owner kept approaching down the trail at a very leisurely pace, not looking in the least concerned about her dogs’ behavior.

With immediate life threatening danger averted, I now had the luxury of feeling pissed off. I waited for her to come within earshot and then yelled, “You need to control your dogs better!”

“They’re just puppies!”, she shouted back in a heavy British accent. “Well, how am I supposed to know that?”, I countered. “Well, I’m telling you now!”, she replied with some measure of hostility, “This is a park where dogs can be off leash, and if you don’t like it you shouldn’t come here!”. “Are you kidding me?”, I yelled, “Just because dogs can be off leash, doesn’t mean you can just allow them to menace people! You are their owner, you need to control them!”

By now she had approached level with me and looking me in the eye she said, “Look here, I bring my dogs to the park to train them. They are just puppies. And besides, when you are standing in the middle of the field looking all dodgy, what do you expect them to do?”

I was startled into silence. Standing in the middle of the field looking all dodgy? What??? I had no comeback and I let her and her little canine beasties go on their way, and though I still felt plenty angry, I also felt rattled and confused

For a short while on my drive home I could still feel the lingering anger, but slowly it began to give way to a sense that my encounter with this woman and her dogs was a gift. The park where this occurred is known, among other monikers, as Thousand Acre Park and encompasses the area where the Sandy River flows into the Columbia. The park comprises a vast area and the many wonderful medicinal plants growing within it’s confines make it a favorite harvesting destination for me. People frequently stop and ask me what I am doing and I am very accustomed to getting puzzled or curious looks. Occasionally I get knowing nods, but mostly I am aware that I am seen as an oddity. At best, most folks thinks what I am doing is kind of weird and at worst, well, I guess they think I look “dodgy”.

Harvesting plants in the wild, whether for medicinal or food purposes, is something most people have no experience with at all. Food comes from the grocery store, medicine comes from the pharmacy. Disconnection from nature has progressed to the point where most of us cannot identify more than a handful of plants or trees (if even that) and we would be completely lost in attempting to care for ourselves out in the wilderness. When a hiker gets lost we consider it a miracle when the person is found alive and well after spending a night or two alone in the woods. Our society has forgotten its wilderness survival skills and we observe the wild forest from a distance with fear and suspicion. We no longer understand what goes on out there in the wilds of nature and we certainly do not look on the trees and plants and wild animals as kindred spirits, as relatives. The big problem with this is that what we have really forgotten is our own wild natures. We don’t remember that we are a part of this wild creation, that we came from the forest and it was our home. By distancing ourselves steadily and ever more profoundly from our home, we create a self-imposed exile and in order to “survive” (and I use this term loosely, because whether we are surviving or not is becoming highly questionable) we have to suppress the part of us that persistently longs for home. We have locked up our wild, creative souls and thrown away the key.

The result of this is exhibited in many ways. It can be seen in the mindless and greedy raping of the planet (clear cutting forests, exterminating plant and animal populations) and the flagrant polluting of the earth in the name of our progress. And, I believe, our alienation from wild nature is also finding expression in the rampant mental and physical illness that exists in our industrialized and modern cultures. To put it bluntly, it is making us sick. And it is a kind of sick for which our doctors and scientists are having trouble figuring out a cure in their labs and sterile hallways.

Our planet is in a critical state. Desperately trying to feed our inner emptiness with unchecked materialism is having dire and deadly consequences for our mother earth and all the creatures upon her.

You might be wondering what gift I think I received that day, standing in the field getting menaced by dogs and then berated by their owner. Well, what I got from that encounter was simply a giant reminder of how disconnected my culture is from nature and in that I was hugely reminded of what it is I want to about. Most people do not understand what a woman crouched out in a meadow could possibly be up to.

I want to be a part of the movement that changes that. I want to keep immersing myself in the wild natural world, to let that wildness wake me up in an ever deepening way. I want to keep sharing my stories and the plant magic I am blessed to bring back with me, to encourage others to embark on their own journeys of reconnection with wild nature.

With this I invite you all to join me in piece by piece rebuilding the bridge that will lead us back across the chasm of separation and allow us to rediscover our place of belonging on this precious blue marble. With this I invite you to go out and stand in the middle of a meadow. Close your eyes and feel the sun warm on your skin and the breeze gently ruffling  your hair. Notice the grass caressing you softly, the buzzing of all the little insects, the subtle fragrance of the wildflowers. Draw a deep breath down into your belly and notice the most important part, which is that you are a natural part of all this…..that you are home.