In her heartfelt and much appreciated State of Society report, Cathy Garra includes a joyful shoutout to the frogs singing on the meetinghouse grounds. I have been enamored of ephemeral wetlands ever since I first heard the term and learned of their importance to the Illinois-endangered Blanding's turtle. Because they typically dry out by midsummer, ephemeral wetlands are important to semi-terrestrial aquatic animals, like frogs and turtles, as it provides resources with no competition from water-locked aquatic animals. They are a habitat where frogs and toads and turtles can thrive. And this had me thinking about the ways in which built spaces can also be well-suited for specific uses. I have occasionally heard folks in our Meeting express some misgivings about their own fondness for our meetinghouse, thinking fondness might be a kind of Quaker failure, since no building is any more holy than another. I believe the sources of fondness for our meetinghouse, both communal and personal, are numerous (perhaps countless,) but one important reason is because it is a space where Quakers can thrive. It is a warm space, a comforting space, a loved space—and because of this it is a resource for connecting to what is holy. After all, we don't sit in silence because it is holy to do so. Quiet spaces are novel enough that sitting in silence can be enjoyable in and of itself, but as a religious practice, silence is simply a tool, a resource that a group of people found to aid in noticing, feeling, considering and articulating our connection to the Divine. And perhaps this spring, as we worship in our beloved, resource-rich meetinghouse, our hearts and spirits will find voice to sing along with the Divine, just like the resident chorus of frogs.

On behalf of the LFFM Clerks-

“Michael” Cunningham