Written by Corinna Wood For those of us who love green, growing things, it pays to know your neighbors. And in our area, one of the most important wild plants to recognize is Poison Ivy. Whether she’s moved in down the road or right in your own backyard, rest assured, she’s out there. A nature-loving woman I know likes to tell the story of a romantic interlude from her past. She and her paramour had wandered off one night to the edge of her flowerbeds to enjoy some stargazing. It was a warm night in early spring and they settled down to appreciate the celestial display. Two days later, however, she realized that she had taken away more than fond memories from her evening of contemplating the heavens. A constellation of itchy, burning bumps had appeared across her back, arms and legs. Yes. Poison Ivy. What two words in the English language can elicit such an immediate, itchy response (except, perhaps, tax audit)? Anyone who plays in the outdoors, or tends a garden, will, sooner or later, encounter this unobtrusive, yet unforgettable vine. So in the case of Poison Ivy, forewarned is forearmed. Poison Ivy (Rhus toxicodendron), and her cousin, Poison Oak (Rhus toxicarium) both secrete oils that contain urushiol, a toxin that produces contact dermatitis – in lay terms, a nasty, allergic rash. So it’s best not to become intimate with this lady. In our region, Poison Ivy is the one to be on the lookout for. Identification is key. The first clue is the three-leafed structure. To further distinguish it from other three-leaved plants, look for an extended stem on the center leaf, while the two opposing lower leaves connect directly to the stem. The leaves themselves have an undulating, scalloped edge that sometimes resembles a mitten.  But [...]

Most women can feel it coming on – the dark time. Our partners may comment that we don’t seem to want their company or anyone else’s for that matter. We get caught up in our emotions  – we’re not usual selves. We’re hypersensitive. We weep, and we bleed. Modern society tries to minimize this experience. Women attempt to suppress the wave of feelings that surge to the surface, to put on a happy face and push through. But stoic as we may be, we’re often forced to acknowledge the power of our bodies and our emotions. Cramps, headaches and fatigue drive us to our beds or into the bath, soaking away our woes. You would think we could take a hint; our bodies and spirits are crying out for sanctuary and succor. Somehow, we’ve come to view menstruation as an aberration rather than a grace. Yet the ancient wisdom, that many women today are rediscovering, is that the Moontime is when the veils between the worlds are at their thinnest, when we as women have a unique window into our own souls, our inner guidance, our divine wisdom. The physical and emotional intensity of this time is an opportunity for healing and release–when we nourish ourselves, body and soul, and allow all of who we are. During menstruation when our emotions and perceptions are heightened, there is a primal urge to remove ourselves from the daily routine and allow these feelings to move through our bodies and our spirits. We crave the Moon Lodge. In societies where the natural order of things is revered, the Moon Lodge offered a retreat – a cradle to receive us when we felt most vulnerable, when the veil between our inner and outer worlds was thin. Women would gather there during their menses, but [...]