The cherries and mulberries are blushing. Every day fills seamlessly to the brim and then overflows into long, golden evenings where I flop on my bed, worn out and ready to listen to my partner read aloud from the latest fantasy novel we’ve scrounged from the DR library. Like one of the children’s watercolors I occasionally find laying in the Common House, one thing bleeds into the next thing into the next, and when I make it to my favorite weekly events—women’s circle, song circle, Sunday sauna—I’m simply astounded to realize that seven days have passed since the last one. Emeshe here with an update on village life.
When I write these pieces in the cooler months, they are usually reflective and focused, birthed out of the lonesome whistling of trains in the distance and the crackle of little fires. But high spring leaves little time for pondering or musing of any kind. Just as the natural ecosystem is bursting at the seams, so is the social ecosystem; plants, animals, and relationships all need tending.

Our first visitor group came and went, alighting on the village like the red winged blackbirds do in May; a flutter of curiosity and vibrancy. Now Alis, Mae, and Julian are busily preparing for the Natural Building Workshop they are instructing at the end of the week: chopping straw, soaking clay freshly pick-axed from the earth, and clearing away a nice work area around the Critter Kitchen construction site. I’m excited to introduce the students to this curvy and eclectic building project, which for the last three years has been both a source of immense pride and immense frustration to me and my fellow members of the Critter Collective. Its bones are Osage wood intricately jigsawed together by Alis, our local mad genius, the whole structure a living testament to the beautiful Osage tree known never to grow a straight limb.

Our nonprofit, the Center for Sustainable and Cooperative Culture, is hosting some lovely volunteer work exchangers this year, who I can hear laughing from the garden during their morning work shift. So far they’ve been incredibly helpful around the village, showing up to plant pollinator plants, weeding in the community garden, stomping cob for the earthen floor at Critter Kitchen, and lending a hand on the roof of Firefly (one of two new homes being constructed right now).
The Dairy Co-op fridge is being filled to the brim with jars of milk and yogurt which click clack together ominously, making me wonder which unlucky soul will be the one who breaks a gallon jug in there this year. The Heartwood Agroforestry Co-op planted a new field of native trees including persimmon and hickories, and is now fostering some white oaks gifted by a horticulturally minded work exchanger from Northern Arkansas. The Critter Kitchen Co-op, myself included, is in construction mode with an ambitious goal of moving into the new kitchen space by Summer Solstice. We are tackling this goal from above and below; simultaneously constructing retaining walls for the rooftop garden and laying down the last section of earthen floor. While it’s a little infuriating to try and smooth out my artfully crafted floor mix (clay, sand, cattail fluff, cow manure, straw, linseed oil, and a little snip of hair from every Critter member) with Alis raining sawdust down on it from the roof above, it is efficient and empowering to have multiple projects going at once. I feel lucky to have a group of friends to build with towards a common goal. It’s almost like human beings are meant to work together or something.

As far as social events go, a group of us went down to the Columbia Earth Day Festival and had a great time talking to folks down there. We brought a straw bale and some cob in the back of the van for folks to play with, and although most adults didn’t want to get muddy with us, a few kids found a real passion for natural building. The majority of the community also went over to Sandhill Farm for a lively May Day celebration, which involved much merriment for all including events like weaving the May Pole, doing some circle dancing, a potluck, and an impromptu amateur wrestling competition.

I’ve got to run. Life seeds life. Joy seeds joy. May we all hold the living things around us with care. May we remember that we are all connected to one another.

Emeshe first came to Dancing Rabbit as a work exchanger (wexer) for the Critter Collective in 2018. That year she helped put finishing touches on the outdoor kitchen that would later burn down in late 2021. She’s grateful to be a part of the rebuild and to be a part of the scrappy little corner of DR called Critterville. It’s been wonderful to watch the trees, kids, and spaces grow and change over the last seven years.