Guten Tag, Reader,

I was walking in the sand along a Baja California beach when my phone vibrated in my pocket with a message from a Montana forest, “The buttercups are out. Crazy!”

This was in January. Crazy early, indeed. And a pang to my heart: I would miss the buttercups.

We had prepared ourselves to miss snow and cold and skiing and the high season at our bird feeder buffet. I had never considered, though, missing the early signs of spring. We were planning to be back by early March, after all.

So imagine my delight when I went on my equinox walk on Friday and found a whole patch of buttercups. Right when and where they should be.

I wish I could show them to you. But in my enthusiasm, I forgot to take a photo.

One of you asked me what I love most about having left social media a year ago.

When I am on walks, the thing I love most is the freedom to not think about what I’ll post about as soon as I get home.

Or sometimes late at night, when I would manically scroll through my photos and my internal dictionary because I hadn’t posted anything yet that day, and the algorithm was hanging like a loose branch in a tree above my head.

Instead of BEING in the forest, on the river, with the mountain, I was occupied with creating an online version of myself who did those things and who might be “liked” by the algorithm and the scrollers.

Instead of feeling the joy right then, I gave it up for the chance at relief I might feel at a "like" in the void.

For over a year now, I get to notice the flowers, the clouds, the birds. Sense them. Become aware of the joy of buttercups in my body. The smile they put on my face. The lightness they create in my chest.

And no, I have not been thinking about this email until I slid my body into an equinox bubble bath 🛀.

And don’t forget to thank the land if you do receive an answer. Even if you can’t decipher it yet.

Have a joyful spring,

P.S. If you want a whole week of this no-phone presence with your Self and the land, there are three spots on the 2026 wildHER retreat late summer. Hit reply if you have any questions or concerns.

* or fall, for my friends in the southern hemisphere. Your question for the land could be something like, “What is ready to be harvested? What can go on the compost pile?”

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