New Traditions

Changing with the times

May 12, 2026

This past Sunday was Mother’s Day. I remember, as a child, being stuffed into the back of our car to drive first to my father’s mother’s house, and then to my mother’s mother’s house. Mother’s Day was all about the grandmothers. And food. There was so much food.

In my current life, there are no grandmothers, and my son I had this tradition for years of going to a nursery and filling our cart with plants that we’d go home and plant throughout the day, and days following. There was a wonderful freedom to it. It didn’t matter what we wore, there was going to be dirt, so dress simply. There wasn’t much car time, mostly together time, and whether we went to a diner or ate snacks in front of the television, we were really together, and it was so much fun.

Now my son has his own house, and a wonderful lady in his life. We all are nature photographers, so the idea was floated to go to a local state park and find the wildlife, especially birds. On the way there, my son asked, “Do you want to stop at a nursery? Afterall, it’s our tradition for Mother’s Day.” I thought about it because I want to get some rosemary for my herb garden, and then I thought again.

“Let’s start a new tradition.” I said. “I mean we can always go to buy plants, and this feels like a new tradition we’re starting today.”

I’m learning, as my son grows and creates his own life, that holding onto to things that we always did together isn’t how I grow and create. I love that he offered it; that he knew it was tradition, and that was enough. I love the woman he shares his life with, and their beautiful connection. Creating from that is a mother’s role, I think. Not to get in between or in the way; to sense the flow of their lives and find a way to be part of it, especially when it’s something we can all do together.

So, the three of us went to the park with our cameras. I want to say it felt like forest bathing because we were in liminal space. For 4 hours we wandered, enjoying the Baltimore Oriole building their woven basket nest, watching the Tree Swallows swoop and gather bits of dried grass for their nests. One Tree Swallow kept landing on one of the houses near us, staying to be photographed. It turned out it was their nesting house which we quickly discovered.

We noticed things, even with the intention of listening for birds, that going on a chatty walk would never have revealed. Maybe photographers are forest bathers with big lenses. :-)

At the fish hatchery, we found an Osprey or two. One of Ospreys noticed me noticing them. Our eyes connected, and there was a moment. I can’t say what that moment was for the Osprey (You’re too big and you’re not a fish so go away?). For me, it was a connection with my Wild Heart.

I’ll just drop some photos here rather than write about each one. You get the idea.

New traditions. Changing with the times. Some things might never change, and we don’t want them to. Some things change us, whether we like it or not. Sometimes, we change because it feels right.

Each of us might resonate with one of those. I wonder which it might be for you.

With love, light and awe,

Linda