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.

A Magic Apple

A couple of years ago, Graham and I planted an Apple Tree. It was not the first Apple Tree I've planted...on every property I have lived upon, there was either a fully grown one, or a small sapling I'd just transplanted after the move.

But the small Tree we planted in the Cariboo is finding life difficult.


It was planted at the top of a bank. We dug a deep, wide hole, trying to pry all the Rocks out of the Soil in the immediate area, but not completely succeeding. And so, I knew I would have to Water it a little more often...Rocks don't hold the Water and there is a lot of run off down the bank.

It tried to bloom. Each time a blossom opened, however, it would Snow. Snow did not bother the Crabapple Tree, planted at the same time, but the little Apple Tree's blossoms would wither, turn brown and drop off.

It was cold for a long time, this past Spring. Snow happened fairly rarely, but with the cold, Bees and such were still hunkered down, still in hibernation.

Our little Tree tried over and over again to fruit...in fact, at one point I actually counted over six little Applets clinging to the branches. These would all eventually drop off.


Except for one.

This one is strongly attached to the Tree. This Apple is perfectly round, with a small dimple which collects Rain Water, making it look as if it has a small window.

Sometimes, one can even imagine that one could look inside through the window and see magic at work.

I dreamt about it the other day, although not expressly about only the Apple Tree. I was in an airport; there were long runways in front of me. My feeling was I would have to choose one. But how was I to know where each led?

I was becoming frustrated and anxious in my dream. Even as I understood that in this dream my choice of runway would have an impact on my life...I couldn't choose. It felt as if I was paralysed, physically and mentally.

The ends of the runways were obscured by smoke. Now, my dreaming of smoky runways was not so difficult to understand, since we have been in smoky conditions for a long time. It is only over the last couple of days that North Wind brought Storms, which put the smoke on the run.

I peered and I pondered. Which runway to choose...? And I knew without a doubt I would have to choose one, in this dream. But I really, really didn't want to do so.

In the misty, murky distance, a Tree appeared, half obscured by the grey tendrils of smoke. I watched it for a long while...was it my Apple Tree? And was it a sign given to me by the Apple Diva? Surely, in a dream where anything is possible, she would appear to give me advice.


Suddenly, I felt a hard, round object in my hand. It was the Applet...the only Apple on the Tree in my backyard. It was easily recognizable...I have stared at that small Apple on the Tree for months and know it well.


Don't you wish, during dreams, that you could take an interpretor along with you? Someone who could point out what is important and what is not in a dream? Most times, I can figure out what it is I am supposed to know, but sometimes...my mind seems too clouded to grasp the concept.


The Apple I held in my hand was ripe. It's scent was lovely...as strong as a box of just picked, perfectly ripened Apples. I wondered if I should eat it, or place it back on the Tree in the distance on the runway. But I knew if I walked on that runway, it would be the pathway I chose...for good and all. And I felt real apprehension at the thought.


Could I commit to one pathway? Could I even make a decision about whether or not to follow the runway to the Apple Tree?


Quite possibly,even in a dream, I would still be standing there at the beginning of all the runways if I hadn't heard a voice coming from the innocuous little Apple in my hand.

Take me home...she said. 


I wondered where home was...was it the Tree in the distance?


Yes...said the small voice...it's the home of Truth and Magic, and you know that.


I didn't know anything. I did not want to follow any of the runways...that much I did know.


But, with the Apple in hand, I find myself walking down the runway that led to the Tree. On my way, I discover the runway is no longer smooth. It becomes hilly, and there are many streams and obstacles to cross before I can reach the Tree, which never seems closer.


There is a change inside myself, as I traverse that long, long treacherous runway. I suddenly know, without a doubt, that I can do whatever it is I am to do. Inner confidence comes back, just as the dream scene begins to fade, with the Tree still in the far distance.


I wake up feeling the imprint of the little Apple in my hand.


Upon arising, I check my small Apple Tree. The Applet still hangs strongly on the branch, ripening day by day. It is a sturdy little Apple, surviving Hail and drought and heat and Wind and smoky Air.


I look upon it a little differently, now.


A magical Apple. One who knows the truth. And one which has a strong sense of...home.


Who knew?

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?