This week I’ve been working on a collaboration project. The concept itself, although not mine, has the potential to do meaningful work. It revolves around supporting others in their roles as caregivers and positive change makers, people whose work is value-driven. So as you can imagine, I’m excited. Although it’s too early to share all the details, there is a theme that has revealed itself to be integral to the project: ‘use edges and value the marginal’.
Agreed, the phrase reads a little dry, but trust me, its juicy at heart.
‘Use edges and value the marginal’ is a permaculture principle. It’s based on the understanding that edges, those in-between liminal places, by their very nature are wild and fertile.
Think of edge environments that naturally occur in nature. The diverse ecosystems of the tidal pools of our childhood summers where, we’d lose ourselves for hours scouting for crabs, sea urchins, anemones and shells. Or the meandering hedgerows from which we pick wild blackberries, sloes and primroses below.
The frontier where one community connects and interacts with another is often the most valuable, diverse and productive element in a system. In this place where two edges meet, you can find species from both ecosystems, as well as unique species that aren’t found in either ecosystem but are specially adapted to the conditions of the transitions zone between the two edges.
Using nature as our teacher, we can reflect on the power of these rich and productive borders in our lives. Places of dynamic change and fluid creativity. For example, in this recent collaboration, it’s be wonderful see the results of ‘edge effect’ cross pollination of our skills - all of a sudden the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
A few on exploring edges:
Seek out the natural world that lives on the edge of where you live, be it pavements, garden paths, country lanes - anywhere where life is fertile and self-regulating.
Notice what is erupting in your garden at the edge of a new season as spring is quick approaching.
Explore your own perceived edges. If you’re anything like me, living in these in-between places is not always the most comfortable, but often they produce great jewels.
Twilight is a magic-filled edge which you’ll know from my photographs I’ve long been drawn to. Sit and observe your internal and external world at these times.
Incorporate the edge effect into your garden design this growing season.
Or you might be having one of those weeks where you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of insanity. If so, I’m sending heart your way - ‘you’ve got this!’
If you’re curious to learn more about this concept, check out these resources:
Letting in the Wild Edges - Glennie Kindred
Edge Effect - Deep Green Permaculture
Design Your Life with Permaculture: Use Edges and Value Marginal
Don’t forget every Sunday you can join me in a supported practice resting back in heart connection with each other.
You are so very welcome to join me on Zoom every Sunday at 8:30pm for twenty minutes of radiating heart. (This is a free community offering)
For more information on what to expect, click here.
Lordess of the Flies
Cabin life, whilst romantic and idyllic in so many ways, has at times, some rather unromantic realities. For example, the strange smell I can’t quite place when the weather is particularly damp. Or the fact that cabins make a particularly appealing home for all things six and eight legged.
This week I faced there reality of what happens when you begin to warm up and awaken a cabin that hasn’t been inhabited for nine months - turns out, you also start to warm up and awaken it’s inhabitants from their winter slumber. In my case a cloud of flies, and one terrifically large hornet!
As a not-so-great lover of creepy crawlies, there have been times this week where I’ve felt on the edge of loosing my sh*t at the perceived grossness, and the insanity driving intermittent buzzing tap tap of said flies against a window pane.
I have painstakingly caught each winged creature and released it into the great outdoors. They’re sleepy still, which means my glass and paper method has been particularly successful. Don’t tell them this, but they were also a helpful distraction from my work in causing me to get up off my chair, move about, fling open a window and take a breath of fresh air every now and again.
Thursday however, was the icing on the cake. I ventured from my cabin, journal in hand, in search of gentle human company and a new writing environment. I found a cosy cafe and ordered a chai latte and glass of water. I kid you not, as I put down my class of tap water after taking a sip, a fly dropped from the heavens (aka ceiling light above) into my glass of water!
Cleary there was no escaping them. So I did what any semi-rational, slightly delirious person would do. I googled the symbolism of flies. Meaning-making can help us make sense of life events at times of perceived adversity. Or, in my case in particular, make light of the event, I mean, it was hilarious to an extent.
For those of you curious, apparently they can represent adaptability, bravery, unwavering resolve and the ability to create life where none exists. (Disclaimer: there were other pages with plenty of negative connotations too, but I am reserving my right to ignore these for the time being.)
In conclusion, my life lesson this week: make light and make meaning - everything fells less overwhelming when we laugh about it (even if it is slightly hysterical laughter). And for now, at least, it seems I have re-homed most of the flies.
Twilight Alchemy Along the South West Coast Path
Last summer I teetered on ‘the edge’ of the South West Coast Path in many ways. A heady mix of finding myself at times at the edge of my insanity and physical endurance, the sheer stomach churning edge of the tumbling cliffs, on the cusp of great change in my life, exploring the fulfilling and fertile edge of steady friendship and the alchemical edges of each day walking and sleeping outside.
Enjoy below a select few of those twilight wild edges.









Rituals to Mark the Edge of a Season
I deeply enjoy the publication Earth Devotions where herbalist Mary Plantwalker writes love letters to our plants allies each week. In her most recent newsletter ‘In the Belly + Cleavers’ she shares a few rituals for Imbolc which I thought you might enjoy.
Sending you all much courage and love for whichever edge you find yourself at this week.
Camille
Thank you so very much for sharing Earth Devotions, Camille! Many blessings to you~