About 5 minutes away from the place we’d chosen, Jason stopped the car. A wounded rabbit was trying to drag itself off the road; the victim of a car travelling too fast on country roads. Hit by a driver who hadn’t noticed or hadn’t cared enough to stop. Its bright eyes alert and frightened, its back end crushed and useless. A precious part of nature wounded by mankind. On this the day when we were being mindful of how nature is wounded by mankind.

We discussed the options. Leaving it to a slow death, putting it out of its misery (something I’d been scared to face a couple of years ago with a seabird) or taking it to the vet’s in the nearest town. The last option seemed to be kindest even though it would take us many miles away from the forest gathering we’d planned.

Nicola nestled the rabbit in her bag on a cushion of lush grass and gave it reiki during the journey. We were all quiet and respectful, doing our best to give the rabbit peace in its final moments. We probably spent about an hour with the rabbit, a quiet time of reverence and mindfulness. An hour where we weren’t doing the Global Earth Exchange we’d planned, yet it was the only thing we could do. We were honouring a wound to nature. The kind of wound that happens every single day on roads around the world.

I saw other living rabbits in the fields we passed on the journey to the vet’s. I noticed how lush and green the grass was, as the wind whipped kaleidoscope patterns across its surface. I noticed how few dandelions there were and wondered what other leaves rabbits like to eat at this time of year. We barely spoke. We passed the rabbit into the hands of the vet where it would be gently put to sleep. My son asked me what happens when we die. I said I didn’t know but I imagined it would be like being in a really beautiful meditation, feeling love and bliss. He thought that would get boring after a while.

We all felt the need to go somewhere that felt safe and reassuring after our time with the rabbit.

We decided to go to a more familiar woodland for our Earth Exchange, somewhere closer that didn’t have the heavy energy of the place we’d planned. We stood barefoot in a circle taking our 100 barefoot breaths then went off to find materials for the nature art we would make.

We would be making the RadJoy bird from materials found in the landscape, on the same day as hundreds of other groups all around the world.

As I gathered handfuls of wood I noticed how many pieces of bark resembled feathered wings, how many beak shapes were hidden in twigs, how many knobbled tree roots would have made perfect bird faces. All of nature can be seen in all other parts of nature. We are all one.

I clambered up the steep hillside and slipped all the way back down to the bottom again, almost dropping all the nature gifts I’d gathered. Laughing at myself, I noticed how often I take the most difficult [fastest] route to where I want to go. I noticed how unnatural it was for me to take the easy meandering path but when I did I found the most beautiful wing shapes for our bird sculpture. Nature shows us what we need to notice.

I noticed how joyful it felt to be seeking materials to celebrate the beauty of nature; realising that sacredness doesn’t need to be serious.

Time seemed to stretch. The RadJoy bird quickly emerged from the cluster of wood we’d gathered, and we feathered it with moss and leaves. The four of us gathered around the bird, naturally facing north, east, south and west without intending to. We drummed into the silence.

Looking down at the three dimensional RadJoy bird, I almost expected it to rise up from the woodland floor and take flight on the winds blowing in from the lake. I imagined that the spirit of the rabbit was rising on the drumbeat.

I want to be part of this wonderful world, grateful to be in a like-minded company and grateful to the Earth Exchange organisers who created this global event.

When I got home I read about the spirit medicine of rabbits. This resonated with me: Rabbits are curious animals who like to explore their surroundings. They live on a few acres of land & become familiar with every square inch.”

Sometimes our concern about the wider world can stop us being fully present in our own corner of the earth. Saturday’s Earth Exchange will stay with me as a reminder of the importance of living mindfully in the landscapes we live in, becoming familiar with every square inch.