Mj Pettengill

Those who know me have often heard me say or write, “Trees are my people.” I am not joking.

Any references to plant medicine in my work are valid and practiced in my own world. I am that woman in the woods.

By reaching back to the child within, grasping her hand, and pulling her into a full embrace, I had discovered honest writing at its best.

I am grateful to have spent hours in the great outdoors. No more snow. The rains have stopped. The ground was dry enough to begin to...

Do you have a treasured childhood tree that you carry with you? Of course, you may have guessed that in earlier versions of my life, and...

I can actually reach out the window and grab hemlock needles in a pinch. It is possible that you may have easy access, too.

When the first English settlers arrived in America, they faced unimaginable hardships. Amongst the challenges of navigating uncharted...

Rain is my constant companion. Although nearing mid-May, I continue to carry wood to keep the fire burning in the kitchen stove. I refuse...

I was raised in what most would consider a traditional, rural New England family. When Christmastime rolled around, we would scurry about...

The steady song of the cicada emerges in August, signaling the winding down of the summer season. Family and friends gather together and...

After the loss of my father, I was in a place of sadness and mourning, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a fluttering of orange ...