In the woods, two Great Horned owls called back and forth, their voices restless and urgent.
There is more daylight now. A subtle shift moves through the land. Tiny whisperings awaken roots and branches, small squeaks and rustlings increase, as word spreads that the green fire is stirring.
The not-so-wild creatures sense something too. Our small horses have already begun to shed a little of their winter woolies, goat-friend's golden eyes glow with the new life growing within her, and little moon-cow dreams of sunshine and meadows.
The green fire comes in other ways as well. Sometimes it comes in the form of shimmering northern lights, or luminescence on the sea, or foxfire on a soft southern evening. Sometimes it comes as the taste of summer wine, wind among the leaves, or the light in a lovers eyes.
Last night it came as a huge green fireball. Streaking hot-tailed across the sky, until it exploded and fell like a thousand stars into the great dark lake below. I was awake when it happened. First an emerald flash, then silence. The owls were still, the land surprised and waiting.
Wild green power reverberated through the darkness.
Words came. Forming, unfurling . . .Time to awaken. Time to shed. Time to send out new shoots, give birth to dreams, and sing out loud to the sun.
The green fire is stirring. Open your heart and welcome in spring.