Dear Friends and Supporters,

As we support our communities by sheltering in place, our connection to the natural world feels more important than ever. We are all adjusting to new routines and new rhythms; home has taken on a new and deeper meaning. When faced with sudden change and uncertainty, finding time to reflect and observe can often help.

“The aggressive world of our time needs to learn how to get out of time. The active world needs to learn to sit still physically and mentally without becoming bored. …
Are we not suffering from too much civilisation, too much science, too much loss of contact with Nature, too much restlessness? For when excess is leading to destruction is it not more prudent to call a halt, and adjust the unfair balance? Has not the time come to look the other way for a while, meanwhile keeping our gains? …
Most forms of activity occupying leisure periods ease either the pace or stress of life by relaxing part of the brain, the instrument of thought; or a part of the body, those muscles and organs most used; or the emotions and passional nature; but the deeper kind of meditation brings peace to a man’s whole being. …
All that we can find in the world without us cannot be beyond in range or quality what we have already found in the world within us. ‘Man, know thyself is a practical rule.'” - The Notebooks of Paul Brunton

So in this light, I hope you will enjoy this contemplative poem, “The Art of Creeks,” written by a young American poet.

Connecting through these words — and youthful imagination — feels especially valuable during this time, and it embodies one of the guiding principles of our work at Park Ecovillage Trust: that the real world is the optimal learning environment for CARE in action. As we spend more time in our homes and away from the many people & things we are used to seeing out there every day, perhaps poetry is a way to stay inwardly connected, creative, and gentle — with ourselves, with each other and with nature.

The Art of Creeks

When the sun sets,
the creek turns
shiny yellow,
which I paint.

Poem by: Lyle Loder Friedman, Age 8, of Wyndmoor, PA, USA; 1996 River of Words Grand Prize winner.

When the moon
is in the sky,
the creek is shiny white,
which I paint.

Slithering water
keeps going,
keeps going.
While under
the water,
the shiny gold rocks
The water is their blanket.

The creek of coldness
shakes your hand
as it turns
Quickly I pull out
with cold
where I was.

The winter chills
the quiet creek.
That blizzard
rushed away
the noise.
I need the
to come.


At PET we are committed to supporting the Park Ecovillage, Findhornin response to COVID-19 by cultivating healthy connections and bringing practical resources to our beneficiaries, associates, webpost readers and members. We are developing and disseminating support, guidance and resources, and sharing best practices. We are committed to helping those on the frontline of community care and to keeping them safe. Please feel free to connect with us any time.

May we continue to stay connected through our words and the world outdoors.