Hawks and Gardens

After a few nights of Frost making his hoary appearance, what was left of the garden requires some tender care. It's time to put the garden to bed.

I didn't buy any bulbs this year; perhaps I still have time. The later I put them in the beds, however, the later in the season blooms appear. Last year, I placed a few leftover Daffodil bulbs in the ground in February. They bloomed in July...pretty, but long past the time when their compatriots were singing Spring's song.

But what a beautiful day it was yesterday! Sun shone in a brilliant blue bowl. Leaves glowed golden against that heartbreakingly blue backdrop. It felt very spiritual; it was as if I was being visited by Spirits, who, as they sat on branches, lit the whole Tree with their golden light.

I rake leaves. These leaves look like jewels spilling out of a treasure chest, so bright with their Autumn plumage, it seems a shame to rake them into piles. But I need a blanket around some plants this year; I need the nourishment Leaf mulch applies to the soil. And the soil will also benefit from the Earthworms that will proliferate, as the Leaves break down.

It is rhythmic, raking...and as I go, I meditate...letting free flowing thoughts drift through my mind. Regular raking and Bird song, the crackle of the dry Leaves, the distant sound of a Soccer game in progress at the Park, with a deep grounding in the Earth, my feet planted firmly in the wet Lawn...it was what my Heart needed...

A comforting blanket of Leaves, one that will restore and balance me.

I hear the chittering of our newest resident...Squirrel. It seems to me his raison d'etre is to drive the Dogs into a frenzy. I can hear him laugh at them, way down on the ground, leaping and barking, trying so hard to reach this terrible threat to our safety.

I continue raking; the Dogs are easily worn out, as maturity finds its way into their being, and will soon resume dozing in Sun's warmth...still palpable, even in November.

I know I will have to rake again; there are many Leaves still clinging to branches, awaiting the arrival of another Wind Storm.

And so, after the beds are covered, I drag a few branches, trimmed from the Trees, out to be picked up by the Town's chipping crew. As I do, I notice, as any Gardener will, another chore that requires doing...and another...and oh, yes, over there!

But I take time out, to visualize and plan the new fence enclosure we are thinking of attempting some time soon. We will continue the fence line and enclose the garden shed and the recycling shed, with entry by large gates Graham is planning to build. It will give us much more space.

And much more room to garden.

There will be a Fruit tree...and perhaps a Nut tree, over there by the Hawthorn. I'm sure Squirrel would approve of that! And I plan to grow Sunflowers all along the fence line, which will give them support, as they nod their leonine golden heads at passersby.

I wander to where four potted plants have endured a Winter and a Summer, growing roots, becoming strong enough to take on the Rocky, Clay and Sand mixture of the top part of the garden.

I have promised them a home this Autumn. But I know the soil here is hard, unforgiving. I will have to amend it, with some sea soil I have left. And yet...these youngsters will have a difficult time of it, with their roots fighting Rock and Clay.

I have time to ponder whether I can even dig these holes. I may need a pick...and another pair of hands, another body.

I sense, rather than see, another presence with me, as I walk to where I left the shovel. And then the visiting vibrations become too strong to ignore...and I turn to see Hawk staring at me from the Berry structure.

He was young and curious. I held my breath...he was not far from me...I wanted to look at him, this youngster, as long as possible. He was very interested in me, as well...it still takes me aback as I discover animals are just as curious about humans as we are in them.

The staring match ended as he flew towards the forested area, and I was left smiling to myself. Hawk has only begun to show up with consistent regularity during the last few years. I have always held these Birds in awe; it is a comfort to have them with me.

As I begin to dig, scraping at the Rocks and scant Soil with my shovel, I hear a strange Bird call...an out of the ordinary Bird call. I lift my head, and there...just above me, on a utility wire, sits another Hawk.

And this one is a fully fledged adult...a Red Tail.

There are no mistakes, in this Universe, and so I stopped and leaned on my shovel, looking at his beauty, drinking in his Energy. His piercing gaze skimmed over me, his head never still, yet intuitively, I knew that he was aware of every minute particle of energy surrounding him.

He flies closer, still...this time to the top of the Ivy Tree. Again that piercing, rasping cry. I tell him...I realize you are King, master of your domain. I will not harm you.

Again his call. I do not understand birdspeak. I struggle, wanting to reassure him, not knowing how other than to send him pictures. I am not prepared for the pictures he sends back to me.

He shows me his habitat, with painfully clear acumen. I see forested areas, with logging cuts, with the Forest floor littered with logs and branches. In a split second, I understand he is showing me the desecration of his area...the area in which he usually resides. Now he lives here, he tells me, his range now shortened to the parkland in the Town.

The moment passes. I continue to stare at him, as he stares far off, into the distance. His voice...his unmistakable voice, one which Hawks usually use in flight, once again calling...and then he flies off, his mighty wings beating the Air.

My head spins, now. I sit on the steps, contemplating the visit. How unusual to see two Hawks, in a single day, I think. I muse over the visions I received...not so strange, when I see wildlife out of their element. What was unusual was the rapidity and the clarity of the pictures he sent.

Taking a deep breath, I continue to dig, scrabbling until I have holes deep enough to shelter the roots of these small bushes...Forsythia, Butterfly Bush, and Viburnum. They will shelter the smaller Birds, the ones that usually hover close to me as I garden...hoping for a Worm or two.

The plants are in, cozy and warm within the shelter of the Snake fence. I pick up my shovel, the pots that held the plants, and take a final look. My eyes are drawn once again to the top of the Ivy Tree, from where Hawk shared his message with me.

It is late afternoon now, with long shadows appearing. It is the kind of afternoon where a morning spent in raking leaves, cleaning garden beds, dreaming and planning a new Season, and communing with Hawks can leave me spent and satisfied.

It is the kind of day where raking ordinary fallen Leaves, tinted with magical colours, opens the door to a whole other World.

One in which Hawks reside, and Squirrels reign and Birds are Kings.

The List

I received an email from a friend of mine recently. She sent me Ten Guidelines from God, in which He states there are changes I have to make in my life, effective immediately. He apologizes for any inconvenience.

God, in his guidelines, tells me to quit worrying. He tells me that I must enjoy fretting over everything, since I seem to do it all the time...it has become a habit. He tells me I must have forgotten about Him and His promise to take my burdens and carry them for me.

He tells me to "put it on the List". He tells me, in no uncertain terms, that this List is His, not mine, and therefore He is the one who will take care of the problem. He tells me that He can't do anything about any worry I might have until I turn it over to Him. And then I have to remember to ask Him for help.

After this, God tells me to trust Him. He says once I have turned over my weaknesses to Him, I am not to take them back. Those problems are now His. And should those problems return, in some way, to me...I am not to hold it close to me anymore...I am to return it to His To-Do List. He will take care of it, in time.

But I think God knows me really well.

Because He then suggests I am to let Him do His job. In other words, I am to have Faith in Him. And I am not to go niggling at the problem, just to see if anything has changed. He tells I really do not know best...He does.

Then He asks me...How hard can trust be?

He says it's a really simple part, the one I play in this game of Life...all I have to do is have Faith He will look after my needs. All I have to do with my problems is to "put it on the List."

Hmmm.

There are more guidelines, in this email from Franca. But these first ones are the ones that are difficult for me to do.

But I've noticed something. I've noticed that a problem that is becoming obsessive and is keeping me awake nights...when it is placed on God's List, I feel relief. And peace.

It is acceptance of the situation that gives me that serenity. Before I can place anything on a List, I have to be sure I have done everything I can, used all the wisdom I have. Only then, when I am at the end of my rope, will I hand it over to Creator.

With health problems seemingly taking over my life these days, I sometimes feel totally consumed by trying to find ways to manage those problems. I read about RA, I try various therapies, I go see specialists...it seems as if this is all I do, lately. The latest thing is orthotics.

I am running out of options. It is close to the time when I will have to place what feels like an obsession on God's list. It is close to the time when I can no longer fight for former youth and better health. Instead, I am close to accepting the limitations my health places on me.

I have a feeling that as soon as I do, I won't notice those limitations as much.

Acceptance in this case will be difficult. I am still unable to let go that, perhaps, I will find some remedy that will allow me to be as active as I was just a few years ago. This is denial of the facts I have been presented with by doctors. But I tell them, when they tell me there is no cure, there might be...there just might be something that will help.

And I tell them...I am not looking for a cure. I am looking for manageability. I am trying to find the best way to live, with limitations.

I ask them...Can you fault me for this?

But I understand. Doctors, my doctor tells me, are programmed to heal, to find a treatment that works. And when they can't...it makes my doctor angry and frustrated. He is rarely able to accept his own limitations.

The other day I told him there were alternative treatments he may not know about. He agreed completely and wished me all the best in my search. He gave me the pros and cons...and if truth be told, it was mostly cons.

Nonetheless, I felt relieved. All those talks I've had with Creator have borne fruit. Inch by inch, so slowly it is hardly noticeable, He is giving me strength. Strength to take a stand, strength to have the courage of my convictions. He is giving me the courage to change the things I can.

And that's one of his other Guidelines. All things will happen in His time, not mine. He sees the whole picture...His view of the World, He tells me, is not one I would want...and all I have to do is trust him. He will get to my to-do List.

He reminds me, once again, that events in my life have fallen into place, over and over again. When it was the right time for whatever it might be, there was almost a free fall of events happening...like a jigsaw puzzle, with the missing pieces suddenly finding their rightful place.

I think he's talking about patience.

And that's another one of his Guidelines.

And a whole other post!

The Thin Veil

Last night, when I wandered outside with camera in hand, the only thought in my mind was taking pictures of the full Moon rising.

I love the Night. I love how the deep shadows soften the edges; how, even under the bright lights from the street lamps, those shadows know secrets, hidden from my questioning eyes.

And when the Moon is full and casting its impossibly bright, brilliant light upon Mother Earth...at this time of year, the Veil is thin between Worlds.

All Hallow's Eve...a seasonal time when good and evil Spirits both, visit from other planes. Perhaps they seek reassurance of their loved ones' welfare...the ones left behind when Death came for them. Perhaps they visit for nefarious purposes. Perhaps they are just curious. Nonetheless...they're here.

I've read they like to play practical jokes on the Soul still having the Human experience.

I am aware , as I walk through the dark garden paths, of packets of Spirits...I walk through some of their Energy. I feel the joyful souls, the sad and mournful ones, the curious ones...and I welcome them all. There is not much energy with evil intent, here amidst the safety of my well-loved plants.

But, oh! It is so dark, way back behind Grandfather Tree, and in front of Cork Tree, ablaze, in the daylight, with golden leaves...but now, only a black bulk configured against the deep indigo of the Night Sky.

In Grandfather Tree's presence, I find it easy to seek the mellow reassurance he offers me...I know, without having to actually see, how to navigate around him. His branches tickle my cheek. The chimes tinkle, with the sudden soughing of Wind that whispers sibilant secrets to me...secrets only intended for my ears.

It is a quiet evening. In earlier years, fireworks would have lit up the Skies, frightening inhabitants with the sudden booming of a big Cracker sent up by the juvenile contingent. But now, bylaws have been passed against it, giving all pet owners a sense of relief. There will be those who will test the law; they have already made their presence known...but no longer do our dogs shiver and shake their way through the Hallowe'en season.

I am deep in thought, as my eyes adjust to the black Night. I imagine myself in the centre of the Secret Forest, where rarely any light intruded during the Night hours, and where silence was so total, it became a thing all to itself. I imagine myself walking along the soft Forest floor, littered with needles and leaves. The soft branches brushing my sleeve, the sticky Spider's Webs, their hostesses long gone, clinging to my hair, and the crackle of dry leaves underfoot...that old Forest is still alive, in my mind.

I am happy to visit, happy that I can still conjure up a place so dear to my heart, and I stay there in the stillness, my eyes closed, my breathing slow, feeling the soft vibrations of the energy imparted by Grandfather Tree, taking me on a journey into the past...

And then, a long mournful howl from the Malemute across the Way...another...he brings his sad longing for his North Country into my garden. Sudden tears prick my eyelids, and my heart follows his in his desperate song to the very full Moon.

He is a dog away from his place. Away from his Pack. He howls to the Moon, following the age-old plaintive Call of the Wild, hoping against hope a member of his Pack will answer...

The dog's painful lament ceases; there is a breathless silence once more.

And then...not ten feet away, my ears are split by a baby's sudden terrified cry. My heart stops; I grab a branch from Grandfather Tree to steady myself. The shriek suddenly ceases.

From the relative safety of Grandfather, I peer through the branches, hear the low moan and instantly recognize the voice of Cat. I see two eyes blazing into mine from a low over-hanging branch from Cork Tree.

We stare at each other for some time. I know Cat is pretending to be Lion in a medieval Forest, just as I imagine myself back in time.

The dogs' furious barking, as they round the corner of the house, intrudes upon our silent sharing of fantasies. I raise my camera...but too late. Only the dogs' barking and hysterical demeanours tell me I had a visitor at all.

I sense Grandfather Tree's mirth. And even if my heart is still pounding hard in my chest, I chuckle along as well.

As I wander back to the house, back to the Big Chair and the fireplace, back to safety... I consider the ramifications of meditations outside, deep in the dark of the Night.

And then, I remember the practical jokes Spirits like to play. I wonder...

The Veil is thin. Was I just the butt of a Spirit Jokester?

Eight Things

This is a tough one. Matt asked me to write about eight things not generally known about me.

It's tough because basically I have already written about anything remotely interesting about myself; it's tough because I don't like to open myself to others, even though I write in this blog as if I have no trouble doing just that.

And it's tough because today I am feeling a little under the weather...it has been stormy, cold and rainy for the past couple of weeks; my body reflects what's happening outside. I really just want to go to bed; however, this is not a thing I can do easily, seemingly. I would lie there, thinking about all the things I should be doing.

One of which is catching up on my writing.

One thing not generally known about me is that I wanted, with my whole heart, to be an archaeologist. I studied it, I read books about it, I fantasized sifting through Dirt, chiseling on Rocks, being outside and deeply involved in what was appearing before me. I even wrote a paper on it, for my Grade 11 Creative Writing Class.

If Archaeology was not to be in my future, neither was the other interest...to be a Midwife. There were few of those when I was of the age to look for further education. Midwifery did not become mainstream until I already had my babies.

I can't think of a finer occupation. To greet those brand new Souls as they arrive would be
incomparable to me, always awesome, always close to Creator.

And then there is the time I lived on a Commune for a few months, after I graduated. It was a great experience...these people I lived with were committed to Mother Earth. But they were not so committed to each other or each other's possessions. Sensitivity and kindness were sorely lacking on this commune...we were all very young, selfish and as passionate as the youth of the sixties generally were.

When my brand new vehicle was used for pulling logs out of the bush...it felt like it was time to move on.

This next one is probably obvious, since I tend to write about Storms, Wind, and Rain more than I do about Sunshine. I love inclement Weather. Really strong inclement Weather. The kind where battening down the hatches is advised. The kind where I can go down to the Seawall and watch Ocean's waves smash and fly onto the Beach, covering people like me, standing on shore, with cold, foamy Seawater.

And with that in mind, my ideal place to live would be with the Ocean at my front and the Forest at my back. I am close to the ideal, where I live...I can see the Ocean from the front of my home, and there is a large, forested Park at my back. In my fantasy, however, there are no other houses around...only Forest and Ocean. I grew up on acreage; it seems acclimatizing myself to neighbourhoods and traffic, rules and regulations is one of those things that requires more acceptance on my part.

All my life, I have eaten foods that were in Season. There is much that is written about sustainable living these days. As I read the literature, I think...This is not new, at least to me. Slow foods are the staple of my cooking. I look forward to the seasonal harvest, eschewing the pap that is sold in the stores, foods that come from thousands of miles away.

I find Farmer's Markets artistic and creative...all the displays show colours and shapes only Creator could have designed. It is a photo opportunity, that changes as the Seasons turn.

And this is an area I would love to explore...growing enough food to take to the Market. I picture in my mind's eye a smallish home on the Beach, with enough area for a large Market garden, and path's to follow into a deep Forest. The house, on second thought, should be a little larger, for the Bed and Breakfast I would run. Relaxation and good food would be the order of the day for my guests.

In direct opposition to running a Bed and Breakfast here on the Island, I look forward to staying in those B and B's, when I travel in the UK, one desire not so unknown to others. This one, as opposed to the house on the Beach, will happen. This one is just waiting for the right time.

One of my favourite ways to beat feeling under the weather, is to make myself a cup of Herbal Tea, grab a crossword puzzle that is not too difficult (else I would just be frustrated and sick) and plunk myself down in the Big Chair by the fireplace. I would doze in between brilliant word choices...and wake up, at the end of my sojourn, feeling ever so much better.

And this is just what I'm going to do.

Matt's directions include naming five other people. I hesitate to do so; most of the bloggers I know have already done this meme. However, in the spirit of the whole thing, I will name Marsha, Joe and Princess Haiku. I realize there are only three bloggers I've named; if there is anyone who would like to write about eight things you hide deep in your heart, by all means, let me know, and I will provide a link to your site.

Thank you, Matt, for giving me the opportunity to write about these half-forgotten desires and experiences I have. I could have written a lot more, had I not fallen victim to this disgusting bug presently inhabiting my body.

The Big Chair is calling my name.

Relaxation

The other day, I asked Graham to give me a Reiki session...my body had fallen out of sync since the attack of the Hives. I had also noticed more negativity, in my outlook.

People who look mostly to the dark side of life will reflect their opinion in their faces, as they grow older. Perpetual frown marks, down-turned lines at the corner of mouths become entrenched...and before it can be realized what is happening, those deep furrows are on the face for evermore.

If I am going to be wrinkled, I want those wrinkles to show my laughter and joy, rather than my frowns and pouts. Laughter lifts the face; frowns drag them down.

A walk through a Senior's Centre will show the faces...well-lived, to be sure...of the people who found their glass half-full, instead of half-empty. There is a vestige of the Sun left in those positive, loving, open and non-judgemental faces.

A Reiki session will last 45 minutes to an hour. This one felt as if it lasted only five minutes.

However long it was, it was extremely full. Dreams and visions, brightly coloured and energetic, took precedence almost immediately, when Graham began the Reiki treatment. My body became filled with the most intense energy...and I was kept there for almost the entire session.

The colours that appeared, enclosing me, were mostly vibrant purple, with slashes of yellow, blue and green. It felt as I would feel if I was in the middle of the Northern Lights, with stunning displays of colour surrounding me.

I noticed my breathing had slowed...I felt deeply relaxed. I relished this almost weightless feeling, as if I drifted on a cloud, well and happy...far away from Hives and other woes. I wanted to remain here forever.

But the Purple became more insistent. With the smell of Lavender gently wafting around me, I followed the Purple light...a light that would sound lurid if I were to describe it, but felt soft, deep and velvety. I travelled along the Purple path, not sure where I was being led.

I felt a little anxiety suddenly...and the propulsion slowed, giving me time to adjust. When I am not sure of where I'm travelling during these meditative journeys, I take time to assure myself that all my tools are in place...and this journey happened too quickly for me to do this vital step.

So I blocked myself; I did not trust completely, this God essence that was trying to show me a different reality. I wanted my tools, I wanted to be absolutely sure...and yet, other than the anxiety that I was not in complete control, I felt warm and comforted. It was a conundrum.

Taking a deep breath, I followed the Purple again, once again in complete relaxation. I became certain of my safety, convinced I absolutely trusted the energy that lead me...

And then, with swift suddenness, I was in Water, a deep body of Water, with no land in sight. I was sinking, I saw myself go under and drift freely in the Water...and again I blocked the feel and sight of the beckoning Purple path.

I do not want to drown, I told myself, and swam desperately to the surface of the body of Water. In an instant, I was once again on top...once again in control, breathing freely...until I realized I had never stopped, I could breathe in the Water, I was in no danger...breathing under Water was a thing I could suddenly do. Once again, my trust was lacking.

Fear a coppery taste in my mouth, I made the decision to go ahead, and as if I had never hesitated, I again floated downward, breathing freely. As I assimilated my new reality, as I became comfortable, I noticed there were Mountains, Hills and craggy Rocks, with lush plant life swaying in the Water's gentle current, all bathed in the Purple light.

I felt my Guides very closely, as I drifted downward, down, down...completely relaxed, my body as weightless as the puff of a thistle seed.

A City loomed beneath me; buildings nestled in amongst the Mountains, streets curving around square shaped substantial dwellings and towers. I walked the streets, understanding there were others around me, yet not able to distinguish them. And then, I was in one of those buildings, completely engulfed by the Purple, drawn to the deep, deep centre of the Purple light.

Where was I? Why was I not hesitating, once again? What was the Light? But it felt so right, to continue on. I was breathing, I felt buoyed, I felt as secure as I ever would...was the time right? I asked my Guides, as I stood there with the Purple light vibrating through my entire being. What, I asked, was I to do, what was expected of me?

I felt the huddle, I felt people all around me. I felt luminous, my Spirit at peace. My mind shimmered with the Purple; I felt the complete magic of this place where I felt myself to be. My body no longer hurt, it felt free and light.

I was given a reminder of what it felt like, before I allowed pain and disillusionment to enter my mind. Before I allowed everyday life occurrences to take over, before I understood that I was required to treat myself and my body with the same passion that I treated my writing, my gardening, and others in my life.

When I was young, I took my body for granted. This is no longer a possibility...

As I understood this, I felt a reverse tug...and felt myself standing in a field of Lavender, her unearthly scent rising, becoming part of me.

I felt Graham move away; the Reiki session was over.

Slowly, I allowed my body to awaken. I felt refreshed and light, after my journey into the Purple. There were lessons here, to be mulled over at my leisure.

For now, for this one moment, I enjoyed the relaxation and serenity I felt throughout every cell in my body. It would take awhile before the negative gremlins returned...and I wondered if perhaps they'd stay away, if I only remembered the Purple.

It will take practice, to feel as well as at the end of my journey to the Purple City. I was shown how well I could feel, and I was shown how amazing it really is, when Body, Mind and Spirit are in balance and in sync.

More answers will arrive; they always do after a Reiki treatment.

I wanted relaxation and balance; as usual, the Universe sent me so much more than I could ever imagine.