Blog
March - Resurrection in the Fields
Sunday 8th March 2026
Mike Mullins
Every month the Soul Rewilding community will be sharing reflections from "Soul Garden", our monthly online community gathering. Here is March's meditation:
It’s an English March, we’re at a threshold in the natural year. Winter is loosening its grip and early spring begins to take hold. Hornbeam catkins hang from branches. Horse chestnut tree buds bulge. Black berries hang from ivy. Fresh, light green hawthorn leaves, looking like parsley and white blackthorn flowers hang entangled. While purple crocus and daffodils decorate the common grasslands of south London.
This is a time of awakening, purification, preparation for growth after a long winter sleep.
Snowdrops are finishing flowering while primroses start to appear along country lanes. Tree buds are swelling on hawthorn, elder, and blackthorn. Daylight is increasing rapidly as the spring equinox approaches us on 20th March, when day and night will be equally balanced. The soil is warming enough for insects and worms to reappear. Fat plump bumble bees are appearing hovering in the air around my open bedroom window.
Early flowers are hope after hardship, life returning after being dormant over winter. Hidden life becomes visible. A spiritual awakening after months of introspection. Creation renewing itself year on year on year. As ancient Irish monks said of spring …“the resurrection written in the fields.”
Sheep are giving birth across the countryside. Fields are filled with young lambs. Farmers are in the midst of the busiest part of the pastoral year.
If you leave your bedroom window open you’ll notice the dawn chorus becoming louder and earlier as migrant birds begin returning. The dawn chorus is like a never-ending wave of thanksgiving and joy that goes round the earth 24 hours a day, seven days a week and fifty-two weeks of the year.
Science tells us there are three reasons why birds sing: to advertise their strengths, to attract a mate and to defend territory. How reductionist. That's only half the story! Birds sing because they can. It's their gift, their song of thanks and joy. Thanks that they have survived the night, the cold, the predators.
For the Celts birds, especially crows and ravens, were seen as messengers between the worlds. The dawn chorus is nature’s choir of praise, the voice of the Spirit in nature, joy returning after silence. In March we see signs of St Brigids returning warmth.
Lent becomes a spiritual springtime of the soul. Sun, wind, sea, and earth are channels of the divine:
I arise today
through the strength of heaven:
light of sun,
radiance of moon,
splendour of fire,
speed of lightning,
swiftness of wind,
depth of sea,
stability of earth.
Nature isn’t just scenery it’s a living reminder of the divine presence.
Let’s finish with an old Irish blessing and a poem by Emily Dickinson:
Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
March
Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat—
You must have walked—
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell!
I got your letter, and the bird's;
The maples never knew
That you were coming,—I declare,
How red their faces grew!
But, March, forgive me—
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.
Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame