The world has changed a lot since spring of 2020, which was the last time we held an in-person ritual or workshop. 

We had met for years outside and in person. Our gatherings were small but we were available to the public and there's something so real about practicing an earth-based faith while standing in every kind of weather, under the trees, in the presence of birds and animals. 

But COVID-19 struck people close to us and we ended up locked down and isolated just before the first official lockdowns. 

We went online fast, and stayed online, first on a month-to-month basis, then committing to an online existence through the end of the year. Then we committed to staying online for all of 2021, then 2022. Along the way I continued to balance public health risks and news of hostility to masks and social distancing with our hopes to "return" to way things were. 

But we changed too much while the moons and seasons marched on. First because everyone had gotten online and we had a lovely influx of community. Second because as we adjusted to meeting, teaching, and serving the community online we changed who we are as a group. And we continue to grow. 

We have been able to serve the community both locally and across the country, even internationally, with our regular events: New Moon meditation, Full Moon celebration, Saturdays meditations, and once a month Irish language fellowship. But we have also been able to host very local services, memorials and workshops. And, in a way that seemed against the odds, we were able to pull together as a local Grove, now working through advanced studies. 

One of the casualties of the pandemic was trust. I discovered I couldn't trust my own immune system, then I discovered that I couldn't trust people to be honest about whether or not they were dangerous to me, and as other people experienced shocking confrontations while they tried to protect themselves I learned that strangers could be dangerous to a public gathering in new and unexpected ways. I admit, a bout of trolls last year in a couple of our zoom events didn't help my perspective. 

And finally the satisfaction of growing in knowledge and community online greatly outweighed the lure of gathering with strangers in parks. 

We have gotten together outdoors privately a couple of times and I'm looking forward to more of that as the year blooms and the days warm. As a group we've celebrated and connected. Four years ago I laughed at the seemingly "extra" skills we had acquired that made it possible to get off of work in one part of town and set up a full blown ritual with a fire pit, mobile signage, and safety gear in a mountain park miles away before the sun set. These days I marvel at the tech skills dictated by necessity that are now firmly in our grips. 

The learning continues, and the world around us continues to change. 

With the new Colorado initiative that bundles State Park passes in with car registrations it will be easier for us to see each other privately. The experience we've gathered for online workshops, charity events, rituals, and classes leave us with a growing set of skills to select from as we move forward. Our online existence makes teaching and learning easier in many ways, and enables collaboration with people who couldn't join in person. 

Before the pandemic started I thought we had reached a happy plateau, but as anyone who has climbed mountains in Colorado can tell you, a lot of time what seems like a flat place not far from the summit turns out to be a prelude to a lot more climbing up. I don’t know what changes are in store for our world, but I know now that our skills and our faith will be sufficient to meet our challenges. 

Peace of the mountains to you, 

Paulie Rainbow

founder: Druidry Centered Women's Circle