There was some beargrass left, dry and crackly. I soaked it for a few hours and cut up the cat food bag into strips. Today in the afternoon, as snow fell outside in hard little pellets, I made a short shimenawa. These straw ropes denote a sacred space. Will it be a problem for Grandmother Yaga that they ward off evil spirits? Is she an evil spirit? Depends on how you look at her. Nature has always had an edginess to it.
Nowadays we might look at a forest in terms of board-feet, or the soybean fields that could be there if it weren't for the dang trees, or, if we are an environmentalist, as a sacred space that needs protection. Gone, for the most part, is the ancient terror that we once felt. Forests had wolves, they had bandits and you could get lost forever. You could meet Baba Yaga.
Perhaps I feel, somehow, that we meet as an equal. We could ruin each other. The balance of power has shifted, mostly, to me. For one thing, I own a chainsaw and I know how to use it. On the other hand, some day I will die and the forest will eat me. Time for a rapprochement.