Month: September 2019

Things Are Weird Out There – Day 302

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Owl Moth

Things Are Weird Out There

I don’t know about you, but I’m finding my sense of what’s going on in the world, both on a macro-level and on a very personal, day-to-day level, to be chaotic and bordering on overwhelming.

I’m amazed, I guess, at the intensity with which we are being asked to live our lives nowadays.

I look back on my journals from 15 or 20 years ago (and even further back) and I honestly feel as though we lived in another age. And by that I mean when I read my entries and contemplate how we lived our daily lives, it feels like life back in the ‘80s and ‘90s is as foreign to us now as “Little House on the Prairie” days looked to us then.

When You Really Think About It…

We are witnessing a time in the world’s evolution that could, conceivably, make or break the entire planet. What an outrageous and outlandish concept. We’re literally and very probably fiddling around taking the smallest of steps to change our energy usage (for instance), when in a year or two, if we do not drastically change our ways in one fell swoop, we almost certainly will be facing cataclysmic, made-for-tv-movie events in our lives on a regular, probably monthly, basis.

I cannot for the life of me understand why addressing the very real, very tangible effects of climate change hinges on whether or not people ‘believe’ climate change is ‘man-made’ or not.

Regardless of ‘whose fault it is,’ it behooves all of us to LOOK. AT. IT. Doesn’t it?

Who cares whether there have been other times in the history of our planet when the atmosphere naturally warmed and caused massive sheets of ice to melt? When those things happened, it changed the course of evolution, didn’t it? And if the plants and animals living at that time could see that, if circumstances continued to unfold the way they were those plants and animals would become extinct, and if they had had the technology and awareness to stop those changes from taking place – wouldn’t they have done so?

Does it really matter whose ‘fault’ it is?

What Is Wrong With Us?

The level of immaturity and utter nonsensical thinking, when it comes to refusing to take practical steps to save our planet (and thus ourselves), defies explanation.

Every day we see the current Administration deliberately rolling back commonsense efforts to make life better here on Earth. For instance, this Administration just rolled back the banning of the sale of energy inefficient light bulbs that was to take effect at the beginning of 2020. And they also are challenging California’s efforts to implement stricter emissions standards than those rolled back by the current Administration. This flies in the face of the usual stance of the Republican party that “states rights” be given precedence over federal regulations.

Sort of Like Dumping Garbage

I guess these attitudes are akin to the people who unconsciously (or worse, deliberately and consciously) dump garbage out their car windows – be it empty cigarette packs, cigarettes themselves, or used disposable diapers.

Every day I’m speaking with friends or clients or even just people standing in line with me at the grocery story who have a strange new look in their eyes. That look is one that says, to me, “I’m starting to freak the hell out. Life as we know it has become insane.”

What to Do?

When confronted with strangers in the grocery line, I do my best to catch their eye and smile. Laugh.

We pick up the cigarette butts and empty packs of Marlboros and dirty diapers dumped along the roadside. (Luckily, dirty diapers are a rarity, but still…).

We use the energy efficient bulbs regardless of whether the old ones are still available for purchase.

I do my best to hold a vision of a United States that leads the way in finding innovative solutions to our crises.

I do my best not to lose hope.

(T-809)

An Early Evening For Me & a Puzzle For You – Day 301

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Marlboro Mystery – Photo: L. Weikel

An Odd Mystery

This will be brief.

I don’t know what’s blooming out there, but I’m assuming this headache and weird, slightly nauseous feeling that’s dogged me all day has something to do with allergies.

Whatever it is, I’m thinking sleep may be the best antidote.

In the meantime, I’ll leave you to ponder the mystery of the odd discovery Karl and I made while taking a walk late this afternoon.

What the Heck?

Even though I wasn’t feeling the greatest version of myself when I arrived home from my quick getaway to Long Beach Island, we decided to engage in the walkabout (4 miles). Shortly into our sojourn, not even half a mile at most, the mystery started taking shape.

“Oooh! Good boy,” we chirped to Spartacus practically in unison. We like to give him positive feedback when he helps locate trash along the roadside as we walk, and he was very clearly sniffing out an empty pack of Marlboros.

“Hmm, somebody must’ve been jettisoning their stash before they got home,” Karl laughed as Spartacus eagerly trotted a few yards further to nose at another empty Marlboro box buried in the weeds ahead of us.

Weirdly, this went on for about another quarter mile or so down our road, well past where we would normally turn to do our shorter, 2.2 mile version, of our walk. Every several feet, we would find an empty pack or two. All Marlboros.  All on the same side of the road.

This pattern went on until we had a bag full of eight empty packs of Marlboros.

Not our usual ‘haul.’

Weirder Still

But weirder still was how we then walked an additional 2.5 miles or so, taking three sharp turns to be on a third, completely different road, only to discover yet another empty pack of Marlboros nestled in the grass beside the road. Even as the crow flies, this loner was a good mile from the other eight.

What are the odds of finding nine empty packs of Marlboro cigarettes strewn along two different country roads on a fine September day?

I’ll leave you to ponder whether there was a message in such a bizarre discovery. (Besides the obvious one, which is that people can be littering jerks).

Sunset on a Field of Yellow Flowers – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-810)

Ocean or Mountain – Day 300

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Sunset on LBI – Photo: L. Weikel

Ocean or Mountain

I guess you could say I’m lucky I don’t have to choose between living in the mountains or living near the ocean.

If pressed, I would probably make the argument that I live in the best of both worlds: gorgeous countryside with an abundance of trees, rolling hills, farmland, and a life’s blood of creeks and rivers interwoven throughout. So why should I choose when I can visit both?

Water, Solitude, and a Striking View

As many of you know, when not relishing the beauty of my own personal environment (such as I indulged in last week), I’ve spent a decent amount of time recently in the Blue Ridge portion of the Appalachians known as the Smokies. And I’ve waxed on about the intoxicating beauty of that area.

Today, however, I had a chance to put my feet back into the Atlantic and feel the raw, primal power of the ocean. The scent of sea and salt here on Long Beach Island took me back to my summers on Cape Cod, as rolling mounds of blue green seawater rippled toward land, slapping against the sand in a massive swooshie sigh.

At first glance deceptively non-threatening, the mounds would rise suddenly out of their humpbacked travel into perfectly sharp-edged curls that resembled skateboarding ‘half-pipes.’ Seeing the mares’ tails spraying back at the topmost edges of those waves made me yearn to be back in the early years of my second decade of life, when body surfing would occupy my days for hours on end and I would fall into bed exhausted. Yet I almost always had just enough juice left to read a couple chapters under the muted light of the Christmas tree light sized bulb in the nightlight above my pillow. With the windows open, I could hear the distant roar of the Atlantic, and I could see the sweep of the “I-love-you” light of Nauset lighthouse across the pine treetops.

Wampum Memories

Yes, just putting me feet into the ocean made me yearn for those days when I walked with my mom and picked up wampum, giving each piece to her for inspection on whether it was good enough to pass her eagle eye.

Speaking of eagles, here’s one of the photos I wanted to post yesterday of an eagle that visited me at the Tohickon back in April in a moment of exquisite solitude.

Eagle soaring – Photo: L. Weikel

Mountains? Ocean? Creek?

Impossible to decide.

But I am grateful for the friends who gave me the opportunity to visit each of them this summer.

(T-811)

Final Messengers – Day 299

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Hawk giving me the stink-eye – Photo: L. Weikel

Final Messengers

Capping the remarkable range of creatures crossing my path this week, I was astonished when a massive Red-tailed Hawk rather unceremoniously landed in the top portion of a shag-bark hickory tree yards from where I was sitting this morning. I’d built another fire (because I could, I guess – and because the air was getting chillier and moister by the moment), so it was even more surprising to me that the hawk chose to land in a tree so close to me.

It seemed as though it had landed near me in order to deliberately get my attention. Mission accomplished! And as soon as I welcomed its arrival in my personal psychic space, it leapt off its branch and proceeded to fly in circles directly over my head. After the sixth full circular pass overhead, the raptor veered back into the currents above the creek itself and flew downstream.

Journaling – Pays Off Yet Again

I’m sure you’ll find it unsurprising that the hawk arrived just after I’d made some rather astonishing connections in my journal. I was literally ‘connecting the messages’ brought to me all week via both the Medicine Cards I’d chosen each day and the actual creatures crossing my path. It wasn’t until this morning and my careful reiteration of all the various connections that I realized the orchestration and choreography that had to have been deployed in order to make the messages make sense to each other.

I didn’t get a photo of this particular bird, but I am happy to share a photo of another hawk that crossed my path some months ago.

Yes, Hawk has been tapping at the window pane of my life for many months now. And if you ask him, he’d say it’s been a long hard slog to get me to pay attention to him again.

Spirit

Finally, as I was moments away from leaving my sanctuary and in the midst of closing Sacred Space, I reached the final ‘Direction’ I address, which is ‘Above.’ This is where I greet and give thanks to Spirit and all the representations and emissaries of Spirit that are associated with ‘Above,’ such as Grandmother Moon, Father Sun, the Great Star Nations, God, Goddess, All That Is, Great Spirit, Ascended Masters, etc.

As I was specifically thanking Spirit for helping ‘connect the dots’ for me and illuminating the meaning behind the pattern of messages I’d received all week, I looked up and could barely believe my eyes. The very moment I expressly gave thanks for providing me with such clear messengers and messages, two eagles appeared in the sky visible through a clearing in the tree canopy. Two eagles danced together, circled a few moments, and were gone.

Unlike all the other days I’ve written about this week, I did not even try to get photos of these profound messengers. Instead, I simply, consciously, and reverently took in the totality of the experience.

Convergence of Earlier Encounters

While I don’t have photos of the winged ones who visited me today, I do have photos of a couple who visited me back in the springtime.

Indeed, the stories of those encounters (which took place on exactly the same day in two separate locations) remain to be shared. While I knew the direct experiences were utterly profound in the moments I had them, I also felt the time was not yet right to relay the stories and their significance. That time is drawing nearer.

In the meantime, though, and in honor of their capstone appearances today, I share a couple of my best photos from our April contacts.

I could not have asked for more direct, immediate communication and support. I am filled with gratitude.

Eagle giving me the stink-eye from afar – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-812)

More Unique Visitors – Day 298

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American Toad – Photo: L. Weikel

More Unique Visitors

Each day that I’ve spent at the creek this week, I’ve been given the pleasure of entertaining and observing more unique visitors.

From ospreys flying directly overhead twice (and squawking to get my attention) to water snakes, American toads to eagles flying upstream, Northern Copperhead snakes to juvenile Red-tailed Hawks, every single day has yielded an incredible gift of special connection with the animal kingdom.

I wasn’t quick enough on the draw to capture a photo of the eagle flying low over the roiling creek a few days ago. But I did manage to persuade the Copperhead to allow me to photograph her from a variety of angles (and not get annoyed).

Different Ones Each Day

It wasn’t as if the same creatures visited each day, either. Yes, there was some overlap – I believe vultures showed up a couple of times – but mostly it was as if each creature was taking a turn at representing their peeps.

For instance, I was quite surprised to meet this handsome little American Toad hanging out at the fire pit today.  Sporting a rust-colored overcoat, he was much flashier than his neutral-toned toad cousins (which came in miniature and Big Mama sizes and had visited two days ago).

American Toad – Photo: L. Weikel

I had to laugh when I looked at the photo I took. Sure looks like he’s flashing the “I’m ok!” sign at me. Perhaps he was reassuring me that he intends to avoid that stealthy, obviously well-fed Copperhead. I’d actually wondered aloud whether the snake had already snagged the three toads I’d seen the day before my ‘herpetological close encounter.’

Then just as the sun was setting this evening, a Blue Heron decided to look for dinner just downstream of me.

Blue Heron – Photo: L. Weikel

I took note of the exquisite patience with which it stood absolutely still for minutes at a time as it stared into the Tohickon, and I consciously made a point of trying to exercise that same patience in observing it. I was richly rewarded. Ever so slowly, the tall, sleak bird waded across the stream and then hopped onto a rock jutting into the water.

Blue Heron hopping onto rock – Photo: L. Weikel

It seemed to snack on some smaller fare, perhaps minnows or those very small fish that seem to populate the eddies and quieter parts of the creek that are surrounded by some of the boulders. Still hungry, Blue Heron slowly and carefully picked its way up along the opposite side of the creek from me – either unaware of my presence or deliberately ignoring me. I was doing my best to be as stealthy and unmoving as it was when it was stalking its prey.

Finally, it had had enough. Deciding a more substantial dinner might better be found downstream, it bent its stalk-like legs which then launched it into flight. I was indeed rewarded for my patience, and once again awed by the generosity with which nature surrounded and welcomed me.

Blue Heron heading downstream – Photo: L. Weikel

P.S.: By the way, this is a super site to use if you ever need to identify a snake, frog, lizard, salamander, turtle, or other such creature in Pennsylvania.

(T-813)

Attention and Luck – Day 297

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Copperhead Visitor, top view – Photo: L. Weikel

It Pays to Pay Attention

Living near rocky outcroppings, forests, and hiking trails, Karl and I have seen a fair number of snakes. It’s sad, but most of the snakes we see are young Eastern Milk Snakes that have been squished by cars as the youngsters try to cross the road near High Rocks. Yes, I realize that sounds specific, but for all our walking, the dirt and gravel road that leads to High Rocks is unquestionably a death dealer for a lot of snakes.

The other day, Saturday to be exact, we came across a Milk Snake that we initially thought was another casualty of cars driving to High Rocks. I’m pretty vigilant about removing from the roadway any dead animals we might encounter because I don’t want carillon eaters (mostly Turkey Vultures and Black Vultures, but Crows like to grab snacks if they have a chance) getting hit while feasting.

Assist – With Caution

I say we ‘initially’ thought the snake was a casualty – but I make sure (before engaging in my shifting-the-body-to-the-berm efforts) they’re dead before messing with them. This particular Milk Snake was not discernibly squished anywhere, so I proceeded with caution (even though I was pretty sure it was a Milk Snake – and they are not venomous). With a gentle nudge of a stick, it scooted off the roadway. But I did manage to snap its photo before it headed into the grass.

Milk Snake – Photo: L. Weikel

I’m familiar with Milk Snakes because they resemble Northern Copperheads, which are venomous. In fact, Copperheads are the source of the most bites in Pennsylvania, although luckily, those bites are very rarely lethal – just really painful.

I say ‘just’ extremely painful – but I can assure you, I have absolutely no desire to experience such a bite.

Luck Plays a Part, Too

It turns out that Copperheads, while being the snakes that produce the most bites, do not tend to be aggressive. Rather, almost all bites are a result of a person stepping on one or accidentally touching one.

This reinforces my initial assertion that it pays to pay attention.

But I’m here to tell you that luck can go a long  way as well.

Witness this serpent I encountered yesterday: I was trudging up the hill back to our fire pit and lost my balance. At the very same moment as I struggled not to fall forward, my brain registered what I was seeing curled amongst the leaves at the very edge of the grilling area:

Copperhead visitor, hanging out – Photo: L. Weikel

I’ll admit it; I freaked. I don’t know how I managed to stumble yet remain standing enough to dodge tumbling right onto it! I was lucky. That’s all I can say. Lucky that I was paying attention and lucky that my center of gravity was such that I was able to catch myself.

Move Along (Please!)

Of course, since Karl was laying another fire (and was probably freaked every bit as much as I was – because he’d been walking around very close to it and had not seen it), I felt we needed to move it. We welcome the message that serpent brings (to shed that which no longer serves us), but we didn’t need the messenger in our faces any longer than necessary!

Knowing it was alive, I found a very long branch with which to nudge it out of its slumber. It was not alarmed in the least. In fact, it hung around, basically showed me where it lives, left our company, returned a while later, allowed me to take its photograph from a couple of different angles, and then retreated again to its home amidst the massive rock wall.

Here are my photos. Theme: My September Encounter with a Copperhead:

Copperhead heading into its home – Photo: L. Weikel

As you can see, it was much longer than expected, based upon how deceptively compact it was curled up within the leaves!

Returning to visit again – Photo: L. Weikel

Well, for whatever reason, I can’t get the photos to propagate the post. So…you’ll have to imagine what s/he looked like all stretched out. Maybe tomorrow!

(I had to write the paragraph above because the photos would not upload. I’ve gotten them embedded now, so those of you reading this via FB or later on my website – after those receiving this via email –  should be able to see the photos in all their…um…glory!)

(T-814)

Solitude’s Companions – Day 296

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Water snake – Photo: L. Weikel

Solitude’s Companions       

If you read my post from last night, you know that I spent many consecutive hours yesterday immersed in a captivating novel that uniquely weaves together the lives of trees and humans. Naturally, given my love affair with nature and Pachamama (a Quechua word for Mother Earth – and more), I’m loving it.

It is no wonder the book, The Overstory, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. It’s an amazing feat of complex storytelling – and I’m saying this while remaining extremely aware of the fact that I’m only half way through it.

What you didn’t know is that I was thwarted in my desired illustration of the post by a 13 hour delay in my photos being ‘sent’ via email from my iPhone and their arrival to my laptop. (I know. Old news. I can’t figure out why sometimes they come through immediately and other times it takes them a day to make the trip.)

But arrive they did, just after noon today. Finally.

Far From Alone

I guess I should be grateful. The delay gave me the opportunity to harvest two posts out of one luscious, Labor Day afternoon spent perched in the middle of Tohickon Creek.

Because while I spent the afternoon in delectable solitude, I was far from alone.

Of course, there was and is the relentless movement of the creek itself. She is alive. Her waters flow around boulders and under tree limbs and through sluices of haphazardly strewn rocks and fallen branches, each maneuver amplifying or quelling her contribution to our conversation.

Her voice has the ability to reassure and center me in a way that keeps me in a swirled state of awe and gratitude. Day after day. No matter how many times I visit her, or at which point in her winding, ox-bowed, seemingly meandering journey to the Delaware River I approach her, she somehow manages to speak directly to my soul. Sometimes I go to her knowing she will wash away my very human concerns, and other times, inexplicably, I resist entering her presence. Perhaps I’m embarrassed; maybe I feel unworthy.

Beyond Her Presence

But beyond the undeniable presence of the Spirit of the Tohickon itself, there’s never been a visit to her shores that I’ve not been greeted by at least one and usually a myriad of other beings.

Yesterday was no exception. Nor was today. Nor, for that matter, was a day last week.

Last Thursday, an osprey made sure I noticed it flying upstream by calling out to me just as it passed overhead. I thought it a bit odd that it called out at that moment, but wrote it off to good luck on my part. The encounter felt a bit more like a determined bid for my attention when the bird did exactly the same thing on its way back downstream, about 20 minutes later.

I’m sure it would be no surprise if I told you that the appearance of Osprey held astonishing significance to me and reinforced a message I’ve been receiving for, well – one could argue at least six months. In fact, I’m almost ashamed to admit that until Osprey showed up last week, I’d actually forgotten the initial onslaught of pointed messages I’d received back in March, although I had noticed and heeded other cameos in recent weeks.

Yesterday’s Companions

So while I descended into the ‘understory’ of The Overstory, I nevertheless maintained a slightly heightened awareness of my peripheral vision. A number of times I sensed creatures around me, riding the currents, slipping around boulders, but didn’t see much other than the occasional little feeder fish or water spiders skimming the surface like speed skaters.

As quickly as that, a head popped out of the water, its red tongue tasting the air. The currents buffeted its slight body and made it waver as it held its head up. I said hello and asked if I could take its photo. It answered in the affirmative, as you can see from above.

I couldn’t zoom in as closely as I would’ve liked, but my sense was that it was a water snake. A youngster, I was pretty sure, as I’ve seen them grown to much (much) larger dimensions than this little guy. I was pleased ‘serpent’ had decided to pop in and say hi.

Last Night

Later, as I sat by the fire and continued my immersion into my book, my peripheral vision again kicked in – despite the competing bids for the attention of my rods and cones. (The firelight flickered and danced, yet I was also focusing the laser-like beam of my phone’s flashlight onto the pages to read into the night.)

Surprised, I trained my phone’s tractor beam to my right. Just outside the stones stacked neatly to create a firepit sat this wonderful toad. We had quite the conversation, as it was not in the least afraid of me, and I felt its presence acutely. I wondered if it was a little chilly, since it seemed determined to explore the spaces between the firepit stones, which must’ve felt warm and toasty.

Fire Buddy – Photo: L. Weikel

Shortly after my little friend made its way wherever, I decided it was time to find my way home as well. It was quite a day of amphibian love yesterday – enhancing my solitude, by letting me know I wasn’t really alone at all.

(T-815)

A Stark Reminder – Day 295

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Trees on Apu Azez – Photo: L. Weikel

A Stark Reminder   

I suppose, instead of titling this post A Stark Reminder, I could also have called it A Stark Realization.

Both the reminder and the realization have to do with the way life used to be. The really and truly completely different way we lived our daily lives before cell phones.

Good grief, I know; I hear myself! I sound like some old coot opining from her rocking chair as she watches life parade past her from the comfort of her porch.

<<Wait a minute…Too close for comfort…>>

Can’t Remember the Last Time

I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to sit and read a novel, non-stop, for close to four hours straight.

As I’ve mentioned a bazillion times in these posts (that’s what happens when you write every day – you discover the shockingly limited repertoire of your daily thoughts), reading and writing are two of my top favorite activities in the whole world. And I used to read non-stop. And while it’s true, I take a book everywhere I go, (always have and always will – thank you for that habit, Mommy), I’m chagrined to admit that a vast amount of potential book time is usurped by those fleeting, yet oh-so-seductive siren calls, “I’ll just check the headlines first. And see whether I’ve received any emails. Oh! So-and-so texted me, I better write back…”

Anyway, today I was at a place where there is ‘no service.’ Yea! After making the strikingly uncharacteristic decision not to write in my journal before doing anything else, I planted myself practically in the middle of the creek, my perch on a boulder made more comfortable through use of a backjack, and r-e-a-d.

Unexpected Resistance

It was strange, too. I could feel my inherent discomfort in applying my attention to a long-term task . The first hour or so, I probably looked up, shifted my position, talked to myself, and otherwise distracted myself every five to ten minutes. It was ridiculous.

Eventually, though, it was as if my brain and psyche remembered ‘the good old days’ when I would sit and read for hours and hours on end, and I found that old groove again.

Heaven!

I’m currently in the midst of reading a couple of books at the same time. But the one I immersed myself in today would probably be loved by many of you: The Overstory by Richard Powers.

Ooooh! It’s so delicious. And like all great novels, the deeper you get into it, the more you find it nearly impossible to tear yourself away from it.

The coolest thing, I think, is realizing there’s a connection between the books I’m reading – even if, at first glance, one might think they’re going to be radically different. When you realize that the non-fiction book you’re reading is saying one thing, and the novel that’s begged to be read is pretty much saying the same thing, only displaying it via fictional characters – you know you’re being sent a message.

Where I Am

I’m in a state of bliss, having taken a deep dive into the essence of The Overstory and realized I’m getting a message. A consistent message. From a variety of sources.

But this day, I managed to slow myself down, remember the way life used to be when we weren’t tethered to the sugar-water bait of the cell phone, and immersed myself in other worlds for a while.

A stark reminder of something I don’t do enough.

Blue Heron – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-816)

New Moon Fire Magic – Day 294

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New Moon Fire – Photo: L.Weikel

New Moon Fire Magic         

For some reason I’m incapable of deciphering, this new moon felt particularly deserving of a fire. I would’ve written about our most exquisite fire last night except for the fact that I wanted to remind you to engage in the Perelandra Biodiversity protocol today.

I don’t often take photos of the fires that we have, but last night’s was a beauty from start to finish. It began with Karl laying a fire that ‘took’ immediately and vigorously.

Friendly New Moon Fire – Photo: L.Weikel

Despite its willingness to burn so wholeheartedly and without a lot of coaxing, it never exhibited any aggressive tendencies, which was fascinating to behold. It was as if it desired to ‘burn friendly’ right from the very beginning. It was, indeed, lovely.

An hour or so into the fire’s life – which again, was remarkably happy and practically jovial – it began emphasizing geometric shapes amid ethereal figures.

New Moon Fire Triangle – and friends – Photo: L. Weikel

It got to a point where the triangle essentially resembled an angular black hole. Both Karl and I were transfixed by the prominence of the triangle, which occasionally took on a pyramidal appearance, although that illusion (?) was hard to capture.

Karl eventually (and characteristically) needed to go to sleep. I, also characteristically, needed to sit with the fire in otherwise utter darkness until it was ‘complete.’ My devotion (using that term only just now, but feeling it wasn’t an accident that my fingers chose to write it) was rewarded.

At first, it was clear that there might be a fire spirit that wanted to see if it could frighten me into going to bed earlier than I’d anticipated.

Photo: L. Weikel

No dice. I wasn’t scared. I was, however, impressed by the ferocity with which the embers were choosing to express themselves. And in an effort to engage even further, I commented on what I was seeing and asked that the Spirit of the Fire speak to me, if it felt so moved. What would it like me to know or do? How could I be of service to the greater good?

And then…

I cannot even recall why I snapped the photo when I did. But when I looked at it later, the Being who’d appeared was undeniably apparent. And even though it remains crystal clear in this photo, let me assure you, the way it manifests in the ‘live’ photo I took with my iPhone makes the entire appearance all the more magical. I swear, it’s as if I could almost hear, “Help me, Obi-Wan. You’re my only hope.”

New Moon Magic, pure and simple.

New Moon Fire Spirit – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-817)

Welcome September – Day 293

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Essence of Perelandra – Photo: L. Weikel

Welcome September

Wow. Well, here we are, slipping into the home stretch of 2019.

Yes, I realize we’re not even in the final quarter of the year. But we all know that the season of returning to school marks an inevitable acceleration in the passage of time. Days, weeks, and months just fly by from now on.

EoP Biodiversity Project

Before I forget, I want to remind you now (because tomorrow night – at least by the time I publish my post – will be too late) to take five minutes out of your day to engage the simple protocol of the Essence of Perelandra (EoP) Biodiversity Project, which I wrote about some ten days ago or so.

Hopefully you took advantage of the great deal Perelandra was offering several days ago that offered a discount on Essence of Perelandra. If any of you visited the Perelandra website and read the instructions for engaging in this protocol on the first day of every month, you would realize just how simple it is. It literally takes five minutes at the most. And yet it is energetically linking up with all the other people in the world who are engaging in the protocol on the 1stof the month.

After working with the Perelandra products for three decades, and witnessing the efficacy of Machaelle Small Wright’s work and communication with nature spirits and how these efforts hae translated into my life and experience, I urge you to give this a try. It’s a small step, a seemingly innocuous step; but sometimes the smallest can also be the most powerful. If you do this for Mother Earth, you never know what you will find yourself discovering for yourself.

Why I Write About This

I just want you to know that I am not receiving anything of value for my writing about Perelandra. I’m letting you know about this process, as well as the existence of Perelandra and its pretty fascinating history and uniqueness because it’s something that’s right underneath our noses that the vast majority of people have never even heard of. And since I have had the great fortune to work with these products (as well as have the support and encouragement to learn how to communicate with nature spirits), and have felt the benefit to my own health and well-being, I’m actually excited to be offering you an alternative to achieving and maintaining optimum health – as well as an incredibly unique connection with nature.

I care.

(T-818)