"October Along the Clam River" (Image & Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
The mornings are darker and longer these days as the sun drifts further south. My coffee garden walk this morning consisted of a steaming mug of black coffee, accompanied by the dancing lyrical notes of Haydn’s Flute Concerto in D. It is a peaceful way to begin the day, and somehow the coffee tastes especially rich this morning. I make it the same way every day—yet now and then, it tastes extraordinary. Perhaps it is one of life’s small mysteries, a reminder that even the ordinary holds hidden gifts.
Today is Indigenous People’s Day, and my heart turns to honoring those who first called this land home. Here, along the Clam River just south of Webster, I sense their presence in the air, in the trees, in the water’s reflection of sky. Their footsteps once touched this very soil, their voices once rose in song and prayer by these waters.
I have come to deeply respect the peoples who lived here long before white settlers arrived. They lived with reverence for the land, guided by the understanding that all life is sacred, all beings connected. Harmony with nature was not an abstract idea, but a lived truth: what happens to the land, happens to us. Take only what is needed. Give back in gratitude. Live in balance.
The stories of their endurance, their struggles, and their wisdom echo through time. And though history has often told their story through tragedy, today we also celebrate their beauty—their languages, their artistry, their spirituality, and their love for the earth that still hums beneath our feet.
As I sip my coffee, I feel that hum in my soul, like an ancient drumbeat. It reminds me that the land and its rivers are not ours to possess but gifts entrusted to our care. I cannot help but wonder: how different might the world be if we lived by their wisdom still?
So I begin this day not only with the taste of coffee but with honor in my heart—honor for the First Voices of this land, and for their enduring reminder that we belong to the earth, not the other way around.
“The Great Spirit is in all things: He is in the air we breathe. The Great Spirit is our Father, but the Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us; that which we put into the ground she returns to us.” ~Big Thunder (Bedagi), Algonquin
~Wylddane
Today is Indigenous People’s Day, and my heart turns to honoring those who first called this land home. Here, along the Clam River just south of Webster, I sense their presence in the air, in the trees, in the water’s reflection of sky. Their footsteps once touched this very soil, their voices once rose in song and prayer by these waters.
I have come to deeply respect the peoples who lived here long before white settlers arrived. They lived with reverence for the land, guided by the understanding that all life is sacred, all beings connected. Harmony with nature was not an abstract idea, but a lived truth: what happens to the land, happens to us. Take only what is needed. Give back in gratitude. Live in balance.
The stories of their endurance, their struggles, and their wisdom echo through time. And though history has often told their story through tragedy, today we also celebrate their beauty—their languages, their artistry, their spirituality, and their love for the earth that still hums beneath our feet.
As I sip my coffee, I feel that hum in my soul, like an ancient drumbeat. It reminds me that the land and its rivers are not ours to possess but gifts entrusted to our care. I cannot help but wonder: how different might the world be if we lived by their wisdom still?
So I begin this day not only with the taste of coffee but with honor in my heart—honor for the First Voices of this land, and for their enduring reminder that we belong to the earth, not the other way around.
“The Great Spirit is in all things: He is in the air we breathe. The Great Spirit is our Father, but the Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us; that which we put into the ground she returns to us.” ~Big Thunder (Bedagi), Algonquin
~Wylddane
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