“Petting needs to commence,” says Cletus – Photo: L. Weikel
Short and Sweet
Since last night’s missive was dramatically longer than my usual posts, I’m thinking you guys might enjoy something short and sweet tonight. That is a rather self-serving cop-out, of course. I’m only suggesting I write a shorter post because I’m flailing about for something interesting to write about.
I must be getting old. Let me rephrase that, since none of us are getting any younger. Perhaps a better observation is: I’m definitely noticing the cold – and that’s making me feel old(er). It’s always been tougher to stick to the discipline of walking every night when late fall and winter approach. I’d say “this year is no exception,” except it is. I feel colder this year. Already. And I honestly think it’s me – not a case of the temperature being unseasonably cold.
Karl and I have had to cajole (or is it goad?) each other to move our bones the last few days. The worst part about the loss of Daylight Savings Time is that the sun sets way too early now. The good news is that we’ve actually managed to log some miles together for the first time in quite a while.
Venus in the cold November sky – Photo: L. Weikel
Quick Puppy Update
And why not? If I’m resorting to commenting about walks and weather, I might as well give you an update on the pups. They’re doing great.
At our vet appointment last week (for their 3rd set of shots), we discovered they’ve more than doubled in weight since we brought them home. They both managed to gain over three pounds each in the last month!
Pacha and Brutus, although initially tending to engage in some (literal) foot-dragging at the outset of every walk, are now becoming remarkably enthusiastic walking companions. I say that they’re doing great on our walks, and it is true, but it’s also true that the pups look at us with only thinly-veiled, “This is puppy abuse,” expressions when I start suiting them up. I imagine we’ll have a full-on puppy strike when the snow falls.
Tonight was just a lazy, snuggly night. I’m off my soapbox. For now.
Brutus and Pacha snoozing on Dad – Photo: L. Weikel
In last night’s post, after expressing worry over both the state of our country and our overall morale, I wrote: “There is precious little overlap between realities anymore. And without common ground? How do we salvage what’s left of our country’s future?” Holding the energy of those questions in my heart, I consulted The Ocean Oracle to “seek a way forward. What do we need to know? How can we help ourselves?”
The answer I received? Nautilus on a foundation of Sea Urchin.
Nope, this isn’t an order of sushi. Rather, it stands for New Beginnings – on a foundation of Truth.
29 Nautilus – New Beginnings
The story behind this card is lovely and bears repeating:
“He wore the shell around his neck, on a cord long enough so that the nautilus rested just over his heart. A reminder to him of his past which had led him to the present, hopeful about the future. He had been going through some personal issues, issues which weighed him down. He felt stuck – stuck in the middle of something he could not see clear of. He took himself away to the beach, to clear his head and hopefully gain insight into how to move forward. It was on a long walk during this that he found the nautilus. There had been a huge storm the night before and this treasure had been left behind in its wake. He had seen shells like this before but had never realized their intricate and intrinsic beauty; how they were formed into a perfect spiral – that nature had the instinct and intelligence to allow a grain of sand to grow into this perfection. He opened himself to the sacredness of the design realizing it offered a new beginning – a new way of being in the world. That everything was an opportunity for growth and change and beginning anew. This awareness released him from his past, allowing him to be fully aware in the present moment.
The Messages
What needs to end? What needs to finish so something new can enter? Open your heart to divine perfect timing. Let go that which keeps you stuck. If you free the energy around holding onto something which no longer works for you, you will have more energy to put into a new beginning. Enjoy the newness of your latest endeavor. Be awed by the perfection of nature and the new beginnings she offers.”
The foundation, or card on the bottom of the deck, when I pulled the main card (above), was 22 Sea Urchin – Truth. The ‘story’ accompanying this card is as follows:
“These creatures had not been seen in these waters for years. They had left long ago, driven out by the pollutants that people had left behind. They needed clean water to thrive and the waters here became too murky and infested for them to live in a healthy way. So they chose to leave, find a place where they were part of a balanced ecosystem. They flourished for years but grew too may for their home to sustain them. Some migrated into new waters and some eventually ended up back in the place they had left long ago. But it was not the same place. Something had shifted. The things that had polluted the water were no longer there. There was more awareness of the way the oceans and ponds and tides worked. There was a place now for the urchins to thrive. They were able to expand and contribute to the ecosystem in a life enhancing way.
The Messages
Your truth is your truth. Are you in a situation toxic to your truth? Do you need to reassess your truth? Has a situation changed in which your truth can come forward again? Is your environment supporting you in your truth? To live in our truth and integrity, it may be that we have to move, and something that means physically. Stand strong in your truth and respect your limits. Set your boundaries but know rigidity may not be the answer. An urchin’s spines protect it but if pushed too hard, or in the wrong way, the spines break.”
My Take
The way forward for our country very well may be via a new beginning. I don’t mean ripping asunder everything we’ve built over the past 245 years. But I do mean that we are stuck – road-blocked in so many ways from accomplishing anything productive. Thwarted from listening to the needs, hopes, and dreams of a majority of people who comprise this nation.
The story of the young man is almost transparently applicable to us as a nation. We’ve surely been ‘going through some personal issues’ – and, indeed, we’ve recently endured a huge storm. Sadly, I sense the storm has yet to abate. Precious little has been accomplished as a result of that maelstrom – neither change nor accountability. But the fact that it occurred at all is, perhaps, the sand that will result in an even more ‘perfect’ creation than was created two centuries ago.
We tend to think our system of government is the be-all and end-all. And as an idealistic person who believes in democracy, I’m pretty fond of it. However, I do believe it can be better. I believe money has corrupted the fundamental tenets of our system – and if we stand any chance of keeping our great experiment, we must get the money out of it.
Idealism
Yes, I’m idealistic. But I also believe that our country was founded on idealism. It makes sense to me that the foundational card underneath Nautilus’s vision of a New Beginning for us as a nation was Sea Urchin – Truth. But I can’t say that I entirely agree with ‘The Messages.’
Yes, when it comes right down to it, we all have our own unique perspective on the world, on life, and on the way things ‘should’ be. We have our opinions about the way things should be. Need to be. Must be, if a system is going to work. And our firmly held beliefs can be called our ‘truth.’
But for our country to move forward as a democracy, we have to at least be able to agree on what is ‘truth.’ We have to be able to start from a foundation of shared understanding of what is true and what is fear or paranoia or deliberate disinformation meant to rip us apart.
Back to Letting Go
In order to get back to at least some modicum of a shared reality, I think we’re going to have to let go of some of our beliefs about how our country is currently set up. That includes changing at least a handful of (and possibly a lot more) ‘ways we’ve always done things.’
This post is becoming long and unwieldy. I wanted to quote the full text from the two cards, though, even though the simplicity of a New Beginning built on Truth is a hopeful outcome.
And I do believe it’s possible. But I don’t think we’re going to achieve it in the next few months.
No, we’re going to have to work for it over the next few years. We’re going to have to figure out a way to discern truth and be willing to let go of ‘the way things have always been done’ in order to create an even more perfect union of people and cultures and belief systems from all over the world.
It’s been a while since I chose a card to guide us through the week ahead. And as I approach the end of my 1111 Devotion, I am reflecting on the assistance and inspiration I’ve received from the handful of tarot and other oracle decks that became my ‘go-to’ support staff.
I’ve been trying extra hard over the past week or two to steer clear of watching anything but the barest bones of news. The trials going on in various parts of our country feel like we’re witnessing Theater of the Absurd. As an attorney, I’m appalled at the behavior of the judge in Wisconsin. His rulings, his behavior, his attitudes all embody impropriety. Right now, right when our institutions are perilously close to crashing all around us, this petty, vindictive, obviously biased man pollutes our nation’s belief in justice.
Right when we need them most, our systems are failing us.
And it goes without saying that this includes Congress. Good grief. I know I don’t even need to write a word on that subject. It’s painful to watch each day tick by without the egregious and unprofessional behavior of a faction of Congress create a mockery of this essential branch of government.
Accountability
There’s a word that all of us are probably feeling pretty obviously doesn’t apply to the rich and powerful in our country. First of all, it barely seems as if anyone is even made to break a sweat when they brazenly lie, cheat, and steal while holding public office (or fraternize with those who do). And then, even when an occasional subpoena is issued or indictment is handed down, we get a front row seat to all the tricks of the trade that the wealthy use to delay and obstruct justice in our country.
I used to see it when I practiced family law. Money used as a bludgeon to maintain an untenable status quo. And when that doesn’t work? Delay, obstruct, and bleed the weaker side dry.
January 6th was a failed coup attempt. You know it; I know it. We all know it. But every single day that goes by and people keep pretending it wasn’t exactly what it was, our country becomes that much weaker. Every day. Drip by drip.
Despair
I don’t want to give in to despair. And the last think I want to do is promote it. But at the same time, I feel like most of us who kept the faith through the debacle that was the Trump Administration are losing hope that our country can be reunited. There is precious little overlap between realities anymore. And without common ground? How do we salvage what’s left of our country’s future?
The Ocean Oracle
I turn to a deck created by a wonderfully creative friend of mine, Susan Marte, for inspiration and perhaps a way forward. Susan is the creator of The Ocean Oracle.
Holding the energy of my words in my heart as I shuffle, I seek a way forward. What do we need to know? How can we help ourselves?
The two cards that appear make me catch my breath.
Alas, I don’t have time to upload the images or share the wisdom of the cards in this moment. But I promise to share them tomorrow night.
I will tell you this: The top card was Nautilus and the foundational card, the card holding space at the bottom of the deck, was Sea Urchin. When you hear what they represent, I suspect you, too, will see and feel both the promise as well as the turbulent path we’ll need to navigate in order to ‘get there.’
Until tomorrow, then. Remember: Nautilus/Sea Urchin.
Tohickon Creek- A Fork in the Path (11 November 2018) Photo: L. Weikel
For all the wild and wooly wind and rain that thrashed through our area earlier today, Karl, Pacha, Brutus, and I still managed to get a walk in. And oh my – there’s just something so exquisitely Maxfield Parrish about November sunsets.
The colors and cloud configurations we witnessed made it seem as if we were walking inside a kaleidoscope, they shifted and changed so fluidly before our eyes. When we first set out, I was smitten with what appeared to be a massive cloud raptor rising in the east, reflecting the pinky-peach rays of the sun that was just barely sinking below the horizon in the opposite direction. When I looked at the photo, I was shocked to see the pointy chin and just-a-little-creepy expression of a devilish looking man on the right.
Cloud Raptor and “Onlooker” – Photo: L.Weikel
Hawks Abounded
Our walk was littered by several substantial chunks of dead tree branches. Swirling gusts of wind were still with us, mostly high up in the treetops, rushing and whooshing and occasionally making us wonder if we should take cover.
Hawk 1 – Photo: L. Weikel
But the best part of this walk, in concert with the colors and clouds, were the three hawks that were swooping and diving, soaring and skimming the field beside us. We think they may have been Sharp-shinned Hawks. Whatever type they were, they put on a joyful aerial display, riding the gusts and quite obviously playing with (or showing off for) the others.
Hawk 2 – Photo: L. Weikel
Watching them play, I was reminded of the Red-shouldered Hawks that were so raucous in the springtime, doing their mating dance right in front of me for the first time in my memory. Well – they are back, literally waking us up every morning for the past week or so. Shrieking from the treetops literally outside of our bedroom windows.
Needless to say, our bird feeders have been a bit like a ghost town recently!
Hawk 3 – Photo: L. Weikel
What’s the Message?
I have to wonder. Honestly, I’ve been inundated with Hawk medicine lately! What a gift – and what a challenge to discern what we’re being asked to pay attention to.
How am I supposed to write with this on my arm? Photo: L. Weikel
Two weeks ago, I lamented the toll taken by Pacha and Brutus’s zealous antics (aka ‘zoomies’) chasing each other from one room to the other on a rather dependable schedule every night. Streaking like lightning around the couch and threading the needle of other obstacles, they got snagged on the charger cord of my laptop and swept it onto the floor with a thud. I feared they’d killed it.
I was relieved to report that the initial diagnosis was a simple need for a new charger. It appeared that the charger had bent and simply needed to be replaced, since the experts at D’town Tech were able to plug it in and boot it back up. All was well that ended well. I ordered a new charger and counted my lucky stars.
Well, it turns out my celestial ciphering may have been a bit premature.
Resisting the Truth
When the new charger arrived from Amazon, I immediately plugged it into the machine and hoped it would charge overnight. When I awakened, it still refused to boot up.
Resisting the truth of what was playing out before my eyes, I told myself the old battery had been drained for so long that it finally gave up the ghost. All would be better when the new battery arrived and the experts replaced it.
Yeah. I wish.
On Election Day, Karl dropped the laptop back off at D’town Tech for replacement of its battery. Sadly, word came the next day that my Dell, while initially booting up just fine, after about 10 minutes was persistently seizing and then crashing. The cause was eluding them. The prognosis was dire.
From Bad to Worse
It’s funny; I look back on some of my earliest posts in this long saga, and I see that ten days into my 1111 Devotion, my Dell XPS went on the fritz. I documented my adventures with customer service (I had a premium warranty on the machine) as they stretched into Days 14 and 15 – ultimately resulting in replacement of the motherboard. Because my Dell crapped out on me in those early days of getting this discipline off the ground, I decided to write all my blog posts on my MacBook Air. And that’s how it’s been ever since.
But that doesn’t negate the fact that I use the Dell for so many of my day-to-day business and record-keeping activities. All of our financials, my legal work, etc., is on my Dell.
So you might imagine how deflating it was to discover that the hard drive was so damaged that they can’t even retrieve my data. They effectively killed it.
While I did back up a lot on an external hard drive, I didn’t update the backup nearly as recently as I should have. As I now wish I had.
An interesting ‘coincidence’ is how this issue came up almost exactly as many days into my 1111 Devotion as I am away from completing this Act of Power. It’s odd. Two weeks into it; and now two weeks from ending it. One thing I’m observing? I’m much less invested in what I’ve ‘lost’ than I would have been three years ago.
That in itself is worthy of contemplation and reflection.
Their first prey – “Killed it!” – Photo: L. Weikel
This is always a tough time of year. Actually, most of the month of November is a challenge. Starting about a week before the 11th, I begin framing everything in my life around that day. (This day. Today.) I see 11/11 ahead on the calendar and I want to look away. I want it to mean something different than it does. But of course it can’t. It never will again.
This year, I’ve sort of been in an in-between place. It’s been ten years. Karl’s been gone for ten years – and actually, I haven’t seen or put my arms around my son in just under 11 years. He left for the West Coast in January of ’11 and never made it home again.
But even though today marks a full decade of missing him, I’d grown a bit detached – perhaps a smidgen one might call ‘spiritually aloof’ – over the past several months. Make that the past two years or so.
The Beginning of the Quiet
Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s all starting to make sense. Since he died, my main mode of receiving communications from Karl has been through the music on my iPod (and now my iPhone), which I would most often listen to as I drove in the car. Since the pandemic hit, I’ve hardly driven anywhere. As a result, I’ve barely listened to any music in the past two years. (Yes, this realization is appalling to me as well.)
While music (and especially the lyrics) of songs is his most effective means of communicating more complex messages, I am cognizant of the occasional hints he drops that he’s ‘around’ – or at least checking in. Some of those I’ve even written about. I guess, though, in the chaos of Covid and everything else that’s been unfolding in our lives, I just felt a distance growing between us. I assumed it was probably natural, that he was busy moving on with his own evolution.
Lately, though, the dearth of communications from him has left me feeling wistful and sad. It starting to hit me just how long he’s been gone. I think the impending end of my 1111 Devotion is also weighing on me. This Act of Power in his memory is coming to a close. Is it a metaphor for something bigger?
Recent Increases
Over the past two days, I was seeing so many license plates with his initials or even his name (for instance, “KRL 1234”), I actually talked to him out loud. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but you have my attention. I see the initials. I see the signs. But I’m starting to feel like it’s just because I want to see them. Our area issued a bunch of license plates with your initials. Big deal. I used to see magic, but I’m starting to think maybe I’ve just been acting dumb.”
Yeah. I went there.
I was feeling sad. And losing my sense of wonder. And yet I still maintained a grateful heart – for if that’s the extent of the messages I was going to receive anymore, at least I was receiving them.
Salmon Speaking
I ran over to Whole Foods today to pick up some salmon for our dinner this evening. We’ve barely eaten any fish since we watched the documentary about over-fishing. But this is a hard week for us, and I thought both Karl and I could use some Omega-3s to lighten our outlook.
As I was driving home this afternoon, I had a very clear and strong urge to listen to my music on shuffle again. No podcasts. No radio. “I need to listen to my music.” I’ll admit, I hoped for but honestly doubted whether anything ‘special’ would come up for me.
The Voice
The very first song that played on ‘shuffle’ was The Voice by The Moody Blues. I do not know why, but as soon as I heard their voices and listened to the lyrics, tears started streaming down my cheeks and all I could think or say was how much I miss my Karl. It was the weirdest thing: like a button had been pushed that immediately triggered a doorway to the pain in my heart that I live with and try not to dwell upon.
For my own special reasons (due to context and history), I heard in the lyrics some statements I sensed Karl was making to me about trust and moving forward with new projects and ideas. I felt like he was offering commentary on a number of things I’d said out loud to him while out doing errands, driving alone in the car, over the past several days.
I will admit that even then – even after bursting into unexpected, unbidden sobs – I actually said out loud that this was pretty well orchestrated, Karl, but who was I kidding? I was probably only hearing what I wanted to hear. After all, today was the 10th anniversary of your death. Of course I’d like to hear from you today. (I’m actually a lot more skeptical about receiving signs and messages than a lot of people assume. Sometimes I make Spirit – and my ancestors and allies – jump through hoops before I’ll believe they’re really giving me a message.)
Tonight’s Wagon
So it was especially fascinating tonight during the Wagon when one of the participants reported that she’d met Karl for the first time. Tonight. In her journey. Now, for some context, when Karl comes through to other people, he almost always brings messages specifically for his father.
That wasn’t the case tonight, though. He asked her to tell me, among other things, that I need to “let go of the past and focus on creating the future.” And I’m supposed to “BELIEVE.”
I had to smile at that last comment. To me, it was very obviously a direct response to the cynical commentary I’d made out loud in the car earlier in the day – in spite of my visceral reaction to the music.
I guess our work together has yet to conclude. I miss you, Karl. But I’m glad you’re so persistent and willing to insist that I move forward with our collaboration.
Won’t you take me back to school? I need to learn the golden rule. Won’t you lay it on the line? I need to hear it just one more time.
Oh, won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight?
Each and every heart it seems, Is bounded by a world of dreams. Each and every rising sun, Is greeted by a lonely one.
Oh, won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight?
Cause out on the ocean of life my love. There a so many storms we must rise above. Can you hear the spirit calling, as it’s carried across the waves? You’re already falling it’s calling you back to face the music. And the song that is coming through. You’re already falling the one that it’s calling is you
My a promise take a vow. And trust your feelings it easy now. Understand The Voice within. And feel a change already beginning.
Oh, won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight? Tonight?
Oh, won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight?
And how many words have I got to say? And how many times will it be this way? With your arms around the future and your back up against the past. You’re already falling it’s calling you on to face the music. And the song that is coming through. You’re already falling the one that it’s calling is you
Each and every heart it seems, Is bounded by a world of dreams. Each and every rising sun, Is greeted by, a lonely, lonely one.
Won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight?
Won’t you tell me again? Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight? Tonight
Oh, can you feel it? Oh, won’t you tell me again tonight?
Brutus eyeing me up while Pacha pokes a caterpillar – Photo: L. Weikel
Diversity
It’s amazing to me how siblings can have the same parents and yet have utterly divergent personalities and proclivities. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, though – not when I consider the nature of my work and the things I’ve seen. But the astonishing diversity of life’s expression, whether it be human or animal, always holds a certain mystery.
Pacha and Brutus have been bringing this concept home for me lately. I know they are litter-mates. I saw their brothers (Pacha was the only female of the lot), and I played with their parents. And while they didn’t seem like clones of each other, you could definitely tell they were all playful and loved.
Right off the bat, though, Brutus wanted to be cuddled. He practically ran into my lap when I crouched down to sit cross-legged on the family’s front lawn. And while he couldn’t resist popping up and scurrying around to tumble and tug with his siblings, he would occasionally (and endearingly) touch base with me by running back and hopping into my lap again.
Pumpkin Scarfer
Pacha, on the other hand, seemed intent on ripping into a slightly smashed pumpkin that was under a bench at the side of the yard. She furtively snuffled her little piggy snout into the soft orange flesh and clearly relished scarfing it up. She joined in on the sibling tumbles too – and made a point of currying favor with Karl – but she was also definitely more independent.
Carrying that attitude forward, she continues to be a free-thinker. She eschews the limits we place on her and gives us the paw at every opportunity.
Most recently, she’s begun bending into a ‘down dog’ yogic position and barking at me when I call to her and ask/coax/command her to ‘come’ to me. A most defiant little pup. Not to worry; I’ve spoken to some who know what they’re doing – and I’m cautiously optimistic that she’ll soon realize I’m a bigger dog than she is. But it does make me wonder at their seemingly almost opposite personalities.
Puppy Pile (Pacha on top) – Photo: L. Weikel
Unique
Ultimately, we’re all unique. Only some of the diversity of our ‘selves’ can be explained by genetics. At least that’s my opinion. Yes, genes can combine in a vast array of different sequences, all creating different combinations of characteristics, etc. But I also think there’s something to be said for the individuality of our souls. And yes, I do believe animals have souls. They may not be quite the same as human souls, but there is something there when you look into an animal’s eyes that has a distinct essence to it that goes beyond skin, bones, and brain function.
I’m just scratching the surface of what I think about sometimes when I watch these pups interact with us, each other, and the other beings that inhabit this household.
But for now, all I’m saying is, there’s a reason why sometimes there may seem to be more photos of Brutus than there are of Pacha. He hangs around with me and gives me more photo-ops. Pacha would rather be out raiding a pumpkin patch or gnawing bark off our maple tree. (Sigh.) Or just giving me the paw.
Amazing Ladybug – She’s blowing a kiss! – Photo: L. Weikel
Ladybugs and Katydids
The weather over the past several days has been achingly lovely. I’m probably yearning to soak up every drop of warm sunshine and immerse myself in the sound of fallen leaves shushing and crunching underfoot because I’m all too aware of how quickly this idyllic time will end. At the same time, much to my surprise and delight, ladybugs and katydids have joined me as companions and visitors.
I did a shallow dive into ladybug habits and learned that they ‘congregate’ in the fall to hibernate together. Swarming in the transitional month of November seems a little late to me, like they could easily get killed in a cold snap.
Anyway, it seems as if a bunch recently decided to ‘fly through’ our area (if they even do that), and have decided to hang out on our property for a few days – especially on our porch. Maybe they’re scoping things out for a good place to hibernate. Most of the ladybugs visiting in the past few days have alighted upon me or my clothing, often running up my arm or hanging out on my hand, or buzzed amazingly quickly across the porch to land on one of my plants. They’re fast flyers!
Look at that ladybug’s shield – Photo: L. Weikel
Unique Markings
All the ladybugs I’ve seen over the past several days have been the ‘usual’ kind – red with black spots. So I was super excited to make the acquaintance of this amazing creature. I’ve never seen a ladybug with these markings, especially the way the two small black spots and one oddly shaped red spot give the appearance of a lady’s face with pursed lips, as if to give a kiss.
It makes me wonder: where in the world would this be effective camouflage?! But those odd markings are only the start. The rest of her shell was covered with a wonderful pattern of 14 hash tags around the outside of what appears to be a yellow shield. The three wavy lines in the center of her shield are intriguing as well.
She’s utterly lovely. And unique.
Checking both Animal Wise* and The Shaman’s Guide to Power Animals* (SGPA), I’m intrigued by the possibility that she might be a protector of some kind, and of course the shield on her back lends a lot of credence to that interpretation. But given all of the messages we seem to be receiving collectively to let old ways, structures, and relationships that no longer serve us die so we can welcome in the change we seek (or that seeks us), including new relationships, I’m intrigued that the intention suggested by the SGPA is: “Help me let go of the past and embrace the future.”
I wouldn’t have associated ladybug with anything other than the rather generic ‘good luck,’ had I not noticed this strikingly unique specimen.
Katydid crossing the road – Photo: L. Weikel
Katydids
The other creature I’ve been noticing over the past few days are the handful of katydids that still manage to “crik-crik-crik” out their (seemingly) throaty call – even though it’s not their voices but rather their legs rubbing together. Once again, just like with the ladybugs, hanging around at this point in the fall season seems particularly risky.
Just last week we had two days of a good frost greeting us in the morning hours. It makes me wonder how the katydids I’ve been hearing during my walks the past few days survived. Did they did far enough under some leaf cover to avoid the worst? Sure seems like the few that are left are a resilient bunch.
About five minutes after I heard a lone katydid scritching out its call, I actually ran into one crossing the road in front of me. What an odd occurrence! Katydids are – at least in my experience – quite elusive. They have big, loud voices, but hide amongst the green leaves, playing the game of throwing their big voices out into the world but keeping everyone guessing where they’re really hanging out.
There’s precious little information out there about katydids – and what little I found didn’t particularly ring true to me. For me, I’m feeling my own perception of their lessons, gifts, and attributes are just below the surface of my consciousness. Indeed, scritch and maybe I’ll discover them for myself.
Weird. I can hear a katydid calling right this moment. It’s nearly 1:00 a.m.
Lovely Katydid – Photo: L. Weikel
Grateful
The intricate designs of the mystery ladybug and the bold resilience of the katydid(s) feel like precious gifts. They’re bringing reminders that things change and we insist on static continuity in our lives at our peril. Or at least at the peril of utter boredom and disenchantment.
I can’t take my eyes of that ladybug blowing me a kiss. And every single time I hear, “Katy did; katy did,” I smile and feel oh-so-very grateful for the enchanting Beings frequenting my life.
The Big Dipper in the early evening sky – Photo: L. Weikel
The Big Dipper
I managed to get in a long walk this evening. I refer to it as evening, but in reality it was closer to 5:30 p.m. or so. The joy and peace feeling that settled into my heart as I watched the stars becoming brighter and brighter was just what I needed. The Big Dipper took up such a huge swath of sky, I just had to take a photo of it.
I walked an extra loop tonight because the weather was simply too perfect. Karl and I took the pups on the initial two mile walk around, but then I did some separate hoofing because it I needed more contemplative time.
I have to hand it to the puppies. Yet again, they walked all the way around all by themselves. Lately, Brutie’s been balking at the whole concept of a walk, dragging his heels in a most hilarious manner
Moon and Venus – Photo: L. Weikel
Moon and Venus
It was hard to keep my eyes off the sky tonight, to be honest. The moon, even though she’s only just past fingernail status, is a brilliant beacon. And lining up with Venus, it really was hard to tear my eyes away from the utter clarity of these celestial beings.
Jupiter and Saturn were also joining the lineup, with the four heavenly bodies lining up in a most dramatic arc across the southwestern sky.
There was something deep and quiet about tonight’s walk. The temperature outside was incredibly pleasant. It almost felt as though I was cheating somehow – being able to immerse myself in such loveliness on the 8th of November.
Walking at Night
It occurred to me as I was walking in the dark, illuminated only by the crescent moon and burgeoning starlight, that I’m not afraid to walk in this way. I’d hear deer scrambling in the brush beside the road, or perhaps a fox or opossum scurrying across the road.
I realized that I am not afraid of Nature as I walk by myself. The only thing that really engenders fear in me is the prospect of encountering other humans.
That truth made me sad. But I guess it’s not surprising.
Crescent Moon through the Trees – Photo: L. Weikel
Every once in a while, Karl and I get a chance to put our beliefs into action and show our solidarity with fellow Americans who seek to make our country or our world better, or seek to be treated fairly and equitably in exchange for their hard work. Today was one of those days.
Because we have a connection to AFSCME (the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees), we chose to spend some time today walking the picket line at the Kelloggs plant in Lancaster County. That’s because Council 13 AFSCME members are showing up to express their solidarity with their brothers and sisters who are members of the BCTGM local 374-G (Bakers, Confectioners, Tobacco Workers, and Grain Millers). BCTGM International is the union that represents over 1400 workers striking against the major cereal manufacturer nationwide to effect equal wages for equal work.
If you take the time to read about the two-tiered wage system Kelloggs implemented some time ago, you’ll have a better understanding of why these workers are striking. Taking the extraordinary measure of standing up to an employer in this manner is never an easy decision. But times and circumstances conspire to create situations that demand redress.
Photo: L. Weikel
Other Times
It seems we’re being given more and more reason to take to the streets. From the dire trajectory of climate change to recognizing the egregious lack of racial justice in our country, we try to show up and be counted, as opposed to sitting in front of the tv and feeling powerless. Not that we don’t do our share of sitting in front of the tv feeling frustrated and outraged.
But I guess watching the injustices pile up and regular people seemingly losing their ability to make a difference is why, every once in a while, we drag our bones outside and show up. Another reason may stem from the fact that we came of age in the ‘70s. I look back on those times and feel, I don’t know…uncomfortable. I remember watching protests on the nightly news back in the ‘60s. Too young to have much of an opinion about anything, I certainly didn’t fully comprehend what was going on. (I knew how my father felt about it, though – based on his reaction to what we watched on the news.)
Too Young To Make a Difference
I vividly remember feeling confused over why young people protesting against the Vietnam War were so reviled and disrespected, as if they were just too stupid or misinformed to realize the lives of their brothers and friends were necessary sacrifices. Necessary? A reasonable price to be paid?
At the same time, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why our country could not – would not – ratify the Equal Rights Amendment. (And seriously – how egregious is it that we still have yet to pass it?) As someone growing up in the ‘70s, I took it for granted that the rights won by women were pretty obviously righteous. Honestly, how could anyone think women weren’t equal to men or at least entitled to be paid the same for the same work?
Ignorance
Oh, how naïve I was.
Speaking of naïve, as a white person living in a mostly rural area, I had no idea what it meant to be ‘guilty of walking while black.’ I never even heard the term until I was in my late 30s, when a colleague described to me the way her black nephew would be stopped by police for just that: walking while black. At first, it sounded like hyperbole. It took no time at all for me to realize it was the horrible truth for all people of color in our country, but especially young black and brown men.
The systemic racism that resulted in the horror of George Floyd’s murder (and Ahmaud Arbery’s and the countless others we’ve witnessed over the past few years but barely remember their names, not to mention the thousands of others we’ve not even heard about) is something of which I was shamefully ignorant. And I say shamefully because these are my fellow Americans. People I truly believed were as equal and free as me. How could I grow up as a reasonably intelligent and well-informed person and not realize just how pervasive racism continues to be in our country?
Outrage
And then there’s the situation with women’s rights over our own bodies. As a girl growing up in the ‘70s, again, I took for granted that I had sovereignty over my own body. I took for granted that it was my business and no one else’s whether I could use birth control. Or choose whether or when I would become a mother.
Yet here we are.
There are so many reasons why I show up to stand in solidarity with others. I may not work at a factory or nursing home. I may never have to worry about my sons being shot as they take a run on a country road because they supposedly look suspicious (because of their race) or are assumed they ‘shouldn’t be there’ or don’t belong. But I can show up and declare my solidarity with them. I can show up to advocate for Mother Earth, and the rights of all women. I can protest the blatant efforts to disenfranchise whole swaths of people. If it matters to me – I must.
Sometimes all we can do is show up. And if we can do more?
Sometimes it feels like our world’s on fire – Photo: L. Weikel
