An Enchanting Day

Lovely Hosta!

On some days, when Lucky and I are wandering through the garden, something I can only call a state of grace descends.

For no particular reason I can discern, meaning I am not meditating or doing anything other than just being, I feel as if life has expanded. I feel as if my heart is open and filled with love.

Grasses soaking up Sun's rays...

The day takes on a certain bright quality, luminous and much more pronounced...each Plant becomes a shining beacon, each Boulder takes on a distinctive personality, each Tree, each Leaf glimmers with a certain intensity.

My hearing becomes more acute...instead of a cacophony of shrieks, twitters, and calls from all the Bird life, I can differentiate between each one, even finding the Tree from which the Birdsong emerges. The chatter of Squirrels suddenly has some meaning...

A photo from a past garden

I visit Grasshopper, who has taken up residence in the Sweet Grass patch. He looks up at me, rubbing his back legs. I look into his eyes and the connection between us happens very quickly...Grasshoppers do not take much time in communing with humans, before they are off again...doing whatever it is that Grasshoppers do during a long, warm Summer's day.


The warmth of the Sun and the love that is stationed in my heart gives such a shimmer to the day! Lucky and I wander here and there, with Lucky searching out scents that excite him, bringing out the Puppy who still resides within him.

The Begonias are three times this size since this photo was taken.

We find a large, black Spider. She looks as if she is mostly body...I only see her legs when she moves. But she has the largest eyes! She twists and turns, keeping her eyes glued to mine. What a strange experience...it seems I am communicating with her, as she dances on the ledge of the deck.


She is a Spider I would not want to meet in the dark of night, but she is beautiful now, in the shining Sun. Even her black, furry back reflects and glows from Sun's rays. She keeps her eyes on mine, and I can't look away. I feel a further rush of warmth run through my body...did it come from her?

A Poppy about to burst its pod.

We leave Spider to her day and continue on to the Seeded garden bed, which has bounced into life. There has been much Rain here, a very unusual amount for the Cariboo. As a consequence, greenery is much pronounced, although flowering is still spotty. But this little garden bed has Baby's Breath beginning to show her lovely, white blooms tucked here and there. And Poppy is running rampant.


As I bend down to look at the Flowers about to come into bloom, I feel as if a hand has descended and is stroking my hair. I am startled for a moment, until I discover it is the Birch Tree which sits right beside the garden bed.

Finally time to put out the deck furniture! Graham's workshop in the background...

And then, I am even more startled, as the realization hits that this Tree could not stroke my head...how did her branch reach down this far? I am not tall, the branch is far above my head and there is no Wind. How odd...but still, she moves her Leaves back and forth on my head for another moment, before her Branch is once again above me. I feel another surge of what can only be described as receiving doting, deep affection from another...in this case, from a Birch Tree, one of many here.

Lucky, just after his bath and before he was trimmed!

I feel as if the whole place has become enchanted. I stroke a Boulder who has many times grounded me, when I feel scattered and in need. I will sit on him, during those times, and I will immediately feel a strong connection to Earth, calming me instantly.

The Raspberry patch, now full of blooms and the beginnings of Berries

Today, this Boulder, warmed from a Sun bath, looks as if he is smiling. His face, usually wreathed in a runnelled, thoughtful pose, seems to have changed to one of contentment and pleasure. I wonder if the shadows from the bright Sun has anything to do with it...and then, just like that, I accept the change in Boulder's countenance. This day is not one where I try to find what others consider real.


It is mid-morning...not a time when I would ordinarily see any wildlife. And yet, as Lucky and I wander on, completely relaxed, my bones and muscles feeling fluid, Lucky stiffens and growls. I grab his collar, knowing the signs, feeling the presence of another. 

Petunias love the hot, dry climate here

And yes...there ahead of me, working on a fallen nurse Log, is a Bear. He is unbelievably large and old...I know him, he has been here before. He is some distance from me. I know I can reach the door of the Workshop before he can reach me, but strangely, this day I feel no fear, only caution.


Lucky is very alert, watching. As am I...this Bear is big!

Another photo from another time

He turns his head and once again, I feel that certain warmth rush through my body when his eyes meet mine. He grunts, seems to consider continuing on with tearing at the Log, and then turns, slowly meandering along on his way, melting into the deeper Forest.


Lucky is beside himself, now. The Bear is gone, leaving no trace. I find myself missing his huge bulwark of a body...I find myself thinking of the stuffed Bear which once comforted me as a wee child.

Rose shines in the Sun

I let Lucky go. I know he will go no further than the Log; Lucky has changed much since Nate died. He listens well; he no longer chases any wildlife, preferring instead to stay by my side. But the smells from the Bear are too good for Lucky to resist...

Ferns in my former garden at the Coast

I continue to be in awe. Quite suddenly, the thought comes that I want the whole World to experience this unbelievably fascinating entrancing day. I feel a strong urge to send Reiki blessings to the Universe, to everyone and every insect, every animal, bird and fish.


And so, while Lucky 'hunts', I do.

Squirbels

Long ago, when my daughter was a toddler, she developed a fear of Squirbels. For the longest time, I did not understand what animal this was...she was far too young to describe what it was that frightened her so.  But the vision of this fearful creature would keep her awake, teetering on the brink of hysteria.

A few nights passed, with Heidi waking in fear...and as a mother who wanted to help, I became quite agitated myself.  We were all kept awake by an animal I could not identify.


But we finally did.  A Squirbel is a Squirrel.  Relieved, I assured her these small creatures were not to be feared; they were only small animals who made a lot of noise in the Trees. When I was able to point out a Squirrel to her, showing her how small it was, the crisis was over.


Previously, she had only heard the commotion Squirrel makes...and had heard someone tell her, jokingly, to watch out for Squirrels. For a few nights, she took the joke seriously!


Fast forward a few decades...and I am beginning to wonder if my daughter had the right idea about these little rodents.

Squirrels are carnivorous. And they will and have attacked humans, dogs and any other being.


This might be a long post.  I warn you now, should you care to abort.

A friend tells Graham and I...Bambi wasn't a documentary. I understand; yet even so...Squirrels are exempt, aren't they?

All the stories I read to my daughter when she was frightened portrayed Squirrel as a friendly, furry little creature...one who was helpful and industrious, although all seemed to suffer from a slight case of OCD.

This saga begins with the bird feeder.  I understood the repercussions there might be, regarding the animal population, in having one...yet I wanted to understand the bird population in the area.  There are so many Birds here I have not known before.

Along with the many Birds came the predators. But I did not recognize Squirrel as one of them.

To me, Squirrel gave the Dogs a job...that of guarding the Bird Feeder.  It gave them a purpose; therefore, they were happy, even if a little stressed.  Squirrels are cunning...they treated our dogs as fools.  But it kept the two of them busy.


I began to notice, however, some of these Squirrels were a little different from the ones I've known before, on the Island. These seemed...wilder. Bigger. They didn't back down very easily.

I don't know why I'm surprised...everything seems so much bigger in the Cariboo. 


Still, Squirrels are Squirrels.  They eat seeds and berries and nuts...don't they?


My first altercation occurred with one of the biggest of their number.  A grey Squirrel, he didn't take just a few seeds to his hiding place. Every time he visited, he scratched all seeds out of his way, in order to find a nut...he created seed showers.


Greed bothers me.

But when I confronted him, the dogs elsewhere, I was at a distinct disadvantage.  I was ready for a shower and therefore undressed. 

He did not back away.  He stood his ground and shouted, jabbered and shrieked at me, every hair on his body on end. I had a quick vision of this psychotic, true Squirbel jumping on to my unclothed body, and quickly slammed the door.

I felt silly at the time, allowing this Squirrel to intimidate me. But now, I'm glad I heeded the message.

Squirrels were suddenly everywhere.  It was as if Squirbel passed the message...Don't worry about her, she's a pushover.

There was the time Squirbel decided to investigate the house, with the dogs in hot pursuit.  He hid in a heating duct, which had not been covered at the time.  

I placed the dogs in another room, hoping the little intruder would come out. He did eventually, chittering loudly...sending the dogs into an absolute frenzy...going back the way he came. I was very thankful, that day, that Squirbel didn't decide to set up housekeeping in the bowels of the House.

Still ignorant of Squirrel's wild behaviour, still believing their antics, mostly, were amusing and cute, I overcame the aberrant  Squirbel's verbal attack, staying out of his way. I'd decided to live with him and his greed.


After spending a morning shifting Boulders and shovelling garden Soil, which had been delivered that morning, I sat with a cup of Tea, in my usual seat in front of the Bird Feeder.


It was sunny, with a breeze...a great day for working. And for settling down in a shady spot, watching the World drift by.  Twitterings and chirpings from the Birds in the Feeder became background music to the soughing of Wind in the Firs. Life felt benign; peaceful drowsiness reigned.


Squirbel appeared, running along the railing of the deck. The dogs had been on duty all morning; they were taking a well-deserved nap.  I felt bygones should be bygones and watched him, instead of chasing him off.


He was watching his manners this time.  He would take a nut and then run off, depositing it in his hiding place. He did this many times, until I became lulled to his presence.


Drifting off, I watched him run to the Feeder.  I watched him leap gracefully to the edge. And then, I watched him grasp and then bite a small Bird who had been a little asleep himself, in the bottom of the Feeder.

Squeaking vociferously, the Bird struggled in Squirbel's grip.


Shock kept me silent for a second; then my shouting and stamping of feet brought the dogs at a run. Squirbel looked at me, with Bird in his mouth.  I thought for a moment he would not let go, but the dogs changed his mind...and the small morsel flew off...


Squirbel now faced a rare problem; he was caught without easy egress. In full fury, I stood on one side and the dogs had the other areas of flight covered. After much dashing about ensued, Squirbel, chittering madly, got away, but only just.


I did research on Squirrels after this episode.  I could not believe my eyes when it happened. But it appears this kind of behaviour is not that rare...I had only fallen into the trap of believing the happy little books I had read to Heidi.


There are many varieties of Squirrel here, the Red Squirrel being the most common.  Squirbel is not a Red Squirrel.  He is about twice the size and grey. No matter his parentage, he is a Squirrel to be reckoned with.


This was another reminder to me that where I live is wild country.  The animals here are not necessarily afraid of humans. And they certainly don't take my feelings into account as they go about the serious business of survival.


I fell for the outer persona of the Squirrel; I don't believe I'm the only one who thought he was a herbivore. I found quite a number of sites who stated just that...no mention of eating any meat of any kind.


But it looks as if Heidi had an inkling of the dark side of Squirrel...way back when!


Squirbel is a monstrous, ferocious creature, indeed!

The Bench

On a bluff on our property, high above the tops of the Aspen and Birch far below, sits a small Bench, made out of stumps and a plank, painted an unfortunate green.

The Bench is innocuous, blending in with its surroundings, not noticeable, really, in any way...yet if one should happen to sit upon it, to gaze over the hillside...one is transported, without noticing a thing, to another realm.

It is a calm journey, not one that would frighten or startle...but suddenly one finds oneself soaring over the treetops, seeing the homes and the fields of the valley below. It is as if one were on a Magic Carpet...a little dizzying, but not a lot to be concerned about.

I first saw the Bench after the former owner told me about it...how, from there, it was possible to view the entire property. But I was below it, and didn't take the time to climb through the Snow to sit upon it.

I remembered it the other day, however. Snow is melting, dripping, gurgling and singing its farewell song, and the Bluff is clear, covered with Kinnikinnick, Roses and other Berries yet to be identified. The dogs and I climbed the small incline towards the Bench.

I sat down, the dogs panting and resting by my side.

It was one of the few warm days we've had. As Sun's golden rays touched my face and Wind tickled my ears, I closed my eyes, in order to listen more closely to Wind's guarded whisper. His caress over my face made me drowsy, like a child being stroked by his Mother.

Watch, said Wind, Listen and Remember...

How odd, I thought, Remember what? But Wind moved on, branches swaying in his path, leaving me to discover whatever it was for myself.

I heard Coyote in the distance, singing his lonely Song...one that reminds me of Loon, who once aroused the same feeling within me. A long time ago, by the pond of my childhood.

And as I followed Coyote's call, the land changed. Spring, with its attendant Bird calls and buzzing of Insects, was in full fruitfulness all around me. There were Flowers, colouring the landscape yellow and blue and pink and red, along with bright, young, green Grasses and Leaves.

I flew over the Aspen and Birch, noting the difference in their leaf colours, hearing the whisper of the Aspen leaves, like soft, gentle coastal Rain. I was shown, in the deep gully where the Grove grew, a huge stump, rotting and being further torn apart by Bear in his search for food. I saw where Moose congregated and Mule Deer browsed within their herds.

I heard the warning...Be aware, it is Spring. There are Youngsters about.

I journeyed on. I saw a large Rockery, filled with Herbs...Parsley, Rosemary, Thyme...and Sage. I saw Lilac Trees filling the air with their perfume. I saw Calendula and Clematis, tangling her witch's seed heads throughout the Big Firs. I saw a garden, and realized it was mine.

I saw an Eagle. I watched as he chased Snow Owl, who silently ducked into the Trees, with the prey he had stolen from Eagle. I lost sight of Owl, but my eyes followed Eagle, listening to his disgruntled rebuke. He circled and circled, trying to catch sight of Owl...but then wheeled off, calling once more. I flew with him, so easily, it seemed, from my perch on the Bench.

I flew over the countryside, a different land than the one I was familiar with. Lady Spring had touched her Wand over every Field, Tree and Flower and had painted the Cariboo all the colours of the Rainbow, shimmering and unreal to my startled eyes.

The dogs roused me. A nose nudged my hand. It was time to wander on.

After a deep dream such as this, when I am caught unaware, the colours that surround me are intensified. It is as if each Branch and Leaf, each Boulder, from the biggest to the smallest, have a luminous light that shimmers and shines, delineating each and every Being. The Land, though not Springlike, looked beautiful.

And I realized...each Season in its time.

Spring will arrive in all its glory. So will the warm, golden days of Summer, the crisp days of Autumn, and the cold, clear days of Winter. As sure as anything.

And becoming impatient for the end of Winter will not cure a thing...it will not change the cycle Mother Earth has found for herself.

I left the Bench, glancing back in awe and wonder. Had I, after only a couple of weeks, already found the Magical Place? Where journeys transpire, and where one understands the language of the Beings who inhabit this place?

A small, innocent Bench, painted an unfortunate green...who knew?

Histories to Learn

Well. What an odyssey this Move has been.

It seems I have been running non-stop for a week. It seems there is no end to the boxes I so foolishly insisted on unpacking myself. And the boxes are all labelled differently as to what is really inside.

When I want to unpack a box labelled Kitchen, for example, I end up with useless items I have no idea why they were packed in the first place, since these things serve no useful purpose. These items were placed way back in the cupboards, not to see the light of day until we moved. It would be really great if I could find dishes I could use...such as dinner plates. Those might be nice to find.

We moved in during a Snowstorm. But the weather changes so quickly here...Skies are bright blue, with nary a Cloud in sight, and then suddenly Snow starts to fall...

Yesterday we were sitting on the deck, enjoying the warm Sunshine, when out of the blue, Wind picked up and howled up the draw, bringing in yet another Snow shower. I have yet to see Rain fall here...it is always, so far, Snow.

But it is less Icy in the mornings, the previous owner's Tulips are showing their tips, and I believe I can see the Grass greening up. Spring will arrive, even in the Cariboo...and points farther North.

What Heaven it was, on the first few days we moved in! After the cramped quarters of the Motel, it seemed we were living in the Taj Mahal...it seemed as if, as I unpacked, I walked miles placing items in the various rooms.

Previously, our home had been painted a very bright yellow. A very bright yellow. And, since there were a couple of days to go before the Movers arrived, Graham painted over it... a first coat of Greenfield Pumpkin...a warm nutmeg tone. First thing.

And we enjoyed the wildlife! Every animal that wandered through, I rejoiced and greeted...until the Dogs arrived.

But Lucky, who had spent time in a "Spa" in the Cariboo, had grown accustomed to the smells; Moose, Elk, Mule Deer and assorted other beings were not new. On his own with us for the first few days, he showed no signs of chasing or barking, even when Mule Deer walked right beside him. It was amazing.

We were not so lucky when Nate arrived, having spent his time on the coast with Graham's son. All these new smells, when he arrived, became too much for him...and even with the extremely heartfelt reunion between these two kennel mates and the subsequent relief both of them underwent...his tummy succumbed. And we had a few rough days and nights.

Mule Deer wander through at all times of the day. They didn't stop doing this browsing, just because there were Dogs here. There are two huge Stags who rest on a knoll on our property, every day...in full view of us...and the Dogs. Oh oh.

The first day, with Nate on leash, the two Stags taunted the boys and Nate lunged, wanting to give chase. Lucky, who does what Nate commands, Nate being the "boss" between the two, went tearing off joyfully after the Deer...on his own, because Nate was being held back strongly by the leash.

I was horrified. But Lucky realized he no longer had Nate beside him, and only chased the Deer off our property...and came back. Had these two been together...

You see, the Conservation department shoots Dogs who run Deer or any wildlife, especially in the area where I live. It is a ranchers' right to shoot Dogs who come near their herds. I have suddenly been transported to gun country.

Shopping in a feed store in Williams Lake, I was told...Welcome to redneck country. You're one of us now.

I had no idea what to say. Stymied me completely.

So...a fence must be built, to give the Dogs their boundaries. And an excavator is coming in, to level an area for the Woodworking Shop. And a new kitchen is on order. There is much unpacking still to be done. There are items on every flat surface...and every bit of furniture, each dish and cup, has a film of dust on it, from the Move.

But I feel at home here, high amongst Trees I am only beginning to know. I have yet to pick a favourite Tree. That will take time, before one friend will introduce himself to me and become another mentor, just as Grandfather Tree was.

I live in a Forest, on the side of a Mountain. There are many, many Trees here of all varieties. And Boulders...age old glacial till, huge, enormous Beings with so many stories to tell. And Kinnickinnic and Mahonia and Elderberries and Saskatoons. So many Aspens and Birch.

So many histories to learn.

The journey has just begun.