Reflections from the Retreat June 2026

So, if you have found your way to this blog then congratulations! That means that you have discovered our new website and followed the trail to this page. I hope you take the time to look at what we’re offering and if you have reached this page via another route then this is the website I’m talking about – www.hummingbirdretreat.org.uk

It seems strange to see ‘.org.uk’ at the end of a website in Grenada but we didn’t want to change the website domain address that we have shared with various people along the way. It has been quite a journey to get to the point of being ready to open a retreat house – to follow our dream of creating a space for people to come, to be, to recover, to thrive. It will be interesting to see the next stage of the journey and what evolves from the space that we have created. When we did the original website, we were still living in the UK and so ‘.org.uk’ felt an obvious choice but so much has changed and I know I am changing, having lived here for over three years.

One change I noticed this year was that over the last month or so I have been praying for rain- I never would have done that in England! Rain has taken on a new meaning for me here and I see it differently. In England, rain meant grey skies, deciding if you have to cancel an outside get-together, cold drips down the back of your neck from a tightly held umbrella and soggy socks. Here we have two main seasons – dry season and wet season and this year the dry season just kept going until the garden and road had deep cracks in the dry earth, the yellow, short grass was just about hanging in there and the trees around me had shed their leaves. People were willing it to rain, and I could sense the communal prayer for a good downpour and the thirst in the earth for a drink. Thoughts of climate change began to make us wonder, what would happen if the rain didn’t come? The thin cows with young calves stood waiting on dusty fields for their grass to turn green and farmers prayed for rain. If the rain didn't come, their crops wouldn’t grow, and for most of us it would mean that the only food in the markets and shops would be overpriced imported stock that wouldn’t be enough to feed the area. No rain doesn’t just mean no flowers or leaves on the trees, it can mean families are thrown into poverty and children go hungry.

I’m doing a Celtic spirituality course at the moment, and it is taking us through the four classical elements, with this month focusing on earth. I think that the course has heightened my awareness of the parched earth and its need for water. So when the rains finally came about a week ago, I celebrated and cheered it on. It has been amazing to witness the speed of transformation in the vegetation brought on by the rain. Despite these heavy bursts of rain only lasting about 10 – 20 minutes at a time, the change has been an explosion of colour. Within a week, the dry branches, that I had been looking out onto, were transformed with green new leaves, and after a week or so after that, the blossom has now appeared alongside the new leaves. I used to miss an English spring but now I can see this is the Grenada spring when we move from dry to wet season. With more blossom, I have seen more hummingbirds including a new variety which I haven’t seen before, the rufous-breasted hermit, which has a similar colouring to a robin.

Perhaps I’m also aware of the surrounding vegetation because I am currently reading ‘Braiding Sweetgrass’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer. If you’re not familiar with this book, it is worth a read. It is such a beautifully written book and her passion for plants oozes out of the pages as well as her concern for what we are doing to the earth. As I explore my own indigenous roots within the Celtic traditions, it is interesting to hear how she has been connecting with her own native American heritage, and how she blends her scientific botanical knowledge with their indigenous wisdom. As I read it, it reminds me of another book I read called ‘Think like a tree’ by Sarah Spencer which suggests principles to live by such as working co-operatively, bending with the wind and never stop learning.

Both these books share a powerful message – that nature can be a wise teacher. David Attenborough (and happy belated 100^th birthday to him!) said “there are some four million different kinds of animals and plants in the world. Four million different solutions to the problems of staying alive." Nature has certainly been the inspiration of many significant scientific breakthroughs and inventions. So, I thought I’d give you a little quiz. Can you name the most significant invention or structure that has come from the following natural organisms -

 1. Humpback whale

2. Gecko

3. Mosquito

4. Mould

5. Burdock plant

6.    Pine tree

7.    Termites

8.    Garden slug

9.    Sea sponge

10.  Fungi in the root systems of plants

Reading ‘Braiding sweetgrass’ is inspiring me to get to know my garden and local area in a new way – to notice and to learn. As Robin says, the plants were here long before us humans and they have adapted and survived. So perhaps in this time of growing climate threat, we need to look to nature not just to help these fellow beings but to learn from them.

Due to the drought, the bushes such as the bougainvillea have been brighter in colour this year, which seems contradictory to the trees losing their leaves. But when a bougainvillea recognises a drought, it know that it needs to bloom the best it can, to produce seeds for new plants to grow, before it dies. Similarly, the papaya tree, which has never born fruit before, gave me a bumper crop in order to spread seeds. So, I have made sure that I have planted some seeds back around the dying plant, once I enjoyed the fruit. Both plants are thinking long term and wanting to leave a legacy, even if they don’t survive themselves. What an example to follow – to bloom and be productive while we can, to the best of our ability, and ensure that we leave a healthy legacy behind when we go.

Another book which I am re-reading is ‘Falling Upward’ by Richard Rohr, which I am studying with others, in a meditation group. This book’s message is about our growth into maturity that comes with ‘necessary suffering.’ Some of us just get older but not wiser whereas others of us move into the ‘second stage of life.’ In this stage we can develop a more expansive and more contemplative view of life, being less egocentric and more focused on others. It seems like these plants understand the process of ‘falling upward.’

At the front of the house are three flame trees or flamboyant trees. At the beginning of the year, the first one started to bloom and produce lovely fresh green leaves and then produced the long seed pods. Then a few months ago it was the turn of the middle one which is slightly smaller than the first. In this last month I have been looking for life in the final, smallest one and was relieved to see a single green sprout. This third one is now slowly producing the odd red flower and green leaf, and it will hopefully be in full bloom in a month or so. They are like siblings taking it in turn to share a toy, though what they seem to be doing is sharing the water supply which trickles down the hill and is nearest to the first tree. They then have the slowest Mexican wave possible of gradually taking it in turns to bloom, with the last one waiting for the first rain to get enough water to produce flowers.

Science is continually discovering how trees are picking up messages about their environment and communicating with each other and it does feel like these trees have an agreed rota that works for them – although it would be beautiful to have them all in bloom at the same time!

Finally, I’ll leave you with another image from my local area and that is this nest on the road up to the house, built by a bananaquit bird. In England I’m used to nests being tucked away so that predators don’t see them. But here the bananaquit puts the nest in such a position that iguanas or possums can’t climb along the thin branch. These nests are quite common to see because these birds also build nests for themselves to sleep in and not just for laying eggs. This nest is in a position of both visibility and vulnerability - a bit like launching a new website where anyone can book to visit. Whenever I pass this nest, I ponder on this fellow creature who also likes to ‘live on the edge.’

So, back to the quiz, if you want the answers, they are below and if you are interested in seeing more examples of inspiration from nature then take a look at https://asknature.org/