Who Is Stargirl?

Stargirl taught us to notice…to care.  You know Stargirl, the spritely, hippie-seeming girl in the Jerry Spinelli story of the same title who showed up at a high school, wrote notes to people, played the ukelele, was nice to everyone, and even cheered the other team’s successes. She turned typical high school life upside down. And, then, vanished.

We walk today in her spirit. Usually ground underfoot is stone-cold and rigid. But with this “winter that hasn’t been” mole humps yield underfoot. We pause by the bell of the Phoenix Harmony Labyrinth.

Cookie Monster has nibbled the rim of the waning Gibbous moon as it slips west. Guided by moon shadows we walk.

From the south Mother West Wind shakes out the Merry Little Breezes. Off they skitter tickling the tops of the firs and rustling the winter-weary leaves of the Derecho-damaged oak.

Four Directions

Stop. Breathe in the air. Neither too cold nor too muggy. It’s Goldilocks. Just right.

To the east, a smear of red on the horizon separates the black earth from the velvet sky. Father Sun, starting to wake up, stretches his rosy fingers. Yet, stars still sprinkle the sky.

The ancient basswood tree full of gaping holes stands silhouetted. How did it survive when the sturdy oak shattered? Perhaps because it didn’t resist?


Vultures return in March. In fact, I saw one the other day soaring overhead. Checking out the basswood that has been home of vulture families for generations. Some people don’t like vultures because they are homely and eat dead stuff. Who among us is a Hollywood beauty?

As for eating dead stuff, good thing they do…One of Mother Nature’s cleanup crew.  Otherwise, we would be knee-deep in rot. Maybe we are anyway. Good parents their keen eyesight and sharp smell lead them to meals which they feed their babies until they fledge.

Watching the young on their first flights as they swoop down, cross the labyrinth, then flap mightily to land in the fir on the far side is always a thrill. Vultures are good totems.

The pause by the birches feels like home. New England. Robert Frost wrote it well: “When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay.  Ice-storms do.”

Call and Response

Ahh, off in the woods a call and response as two cardinals awaken and call. A turkey gobbles from a tree top.

At the Center of the labyrinth, I thank the earth elements, plant and animal kingdom, those I have known. I send Grace to those I dislike, which helps me most. I stop and thank guides and Divine love.

Horned Owl

Injured owls find a safe home at the International Owl Center.

An owl floats past. Silent yet hearing, unseen yet seeing all. Quiet knowing. Carrying us through the night into the day.

To the north the Big Dipper’s handle swings off to Arcturus and look! A shooting star blazes brightly dropping into the North Star.

Stargirl is with us.