Late this afternoon, I managed to capture a glimpse of the sun just before it descended below the horizon. Yet another raptor darted from the bushes to my left – a falcon this time – crossing my path and weaving effortlessly amongst the saplings and grapevines. Hawks had accompanied me the entire length of my extended walk; I’d seen at least four, not counting this smaller, dark brown falcon. “The Solstice is upon us!” the falcon cried. “Time to fluff our feathers and hunker down. You need to get home,” it added.
And so the longest night of the year began with a messenger swooping before my eyes. This must have been Spirit’s last ditch effort to gain my attention, since a Red-tailed Hawk had literally executed a combination swoop/jump from tree branch to tree branch in front of me, spanning a quarter of a mile, its massive wings cupped forward, beckoning me to follow.
No photos of those quick hops from branch to branch. The best I could do was snag one of it facing the setting sun, turning its back to me, facing the wild unknown most bravely.
Hawk Facing West – Photo: L. Weikel
Pensive
I’m feeling decidedly pensive this evening. I was keenly aware of the impending darkness this evening, especially the fact that tonight the darkness would last the greatest amount of time. Our fire is burning gently, reminding us of just how cold it became tonight – all of a sudden, too. I know I’d looked at the Weather Channel app several times over the past 24 hours and not once did I see the call for such frigid temperatures as those we awakened to this morning.
The cold only drives us deeper within.
Contemplating the dreams we wish to manifest over the next three months is our focus at the moment. What changes are we seeking? What messages will we be delivering? What is the coming year going to teach us about ourselves? How can we best honor the our heart’s desire?
So many questions. Such freezing temperatures driving us inside, making sure we hunker down.
Tomorrow we’ll awaken and the days will begin lengthening ever so slowly.
Enjoy the night. Revel in the silence. Or is that the call of a Great Horned Owl I hear?
A Lone Cranesbill Along Our Path – Photo: L. Weikel
Cranesbill
Aha! I was just seeing if you were paying attention. Of course, I’m sure you immediately thought to yourself when you saw the title of this post, Cranesbill, “I can’t believe she’s milking the Wild Geraniums she saw on a walk two days ago for yet a third post. Good grief, she is shameless.”
Indeed, you’d be right.
Yes, I’m parlaying my recent discovery of the name of the lovely pale purple wildflower growing prolifically along roadsides into one final post. These wildflowers are seemingly everywhere now. I’m equally sure I’m seeing and recognizing them now because I made a conscious effort to learn their name so I would no longer pass by them with no recognition.
The reason I’m writing one last post, though, is because I just had to look up the spiritual attributes of Geranium. Alleviation of the physical symptoms that respond to Geranium didn’t feel like an immediate concern to me (thank goodness). And then the light bulb went off and I realized I’d failed to look up Geranium’s significance in my trusty Nature Speak* by Ted Andrews.
The Message – on this New Moon
As usual, in looking up the message Geranium might be bringing me (since it’s practically been haunting me the past few days), I’m both fascinated and intrigued by what I’ve discovered in the aforementioned Nature Speak:
“Geranium (geranium)
Keynote: new happiness and vitality; take advantage of new opportunities
Geranium is a perennial that comes in many colors. They are usually found and grown as groundcover in woodland gardens and rockeries. Some varieties suppress weeds through mounts of their leaves and flowers. They are easy to grow and the blooms are saucer-shaped. They are a summer blooming plant, making this a messenger about efforts coming to fruition having greater success in summer.
Geranium means ‘crane’s bill.’ In southern Africa, a variety of it is called stork’s bill. The crane, the animal to which this flower is also associated by its name, is a symbol of the solar deities and the bridging of the spiritual and physical realms. This flower and its energies awaken a greater sense of happiness and stir the heart chakra into greater healing and a renewed sense of joy in life. It vitalizes the aura of the individual which strongly repercusses on all those within one’s life. It helps one to pinpoint and grab life’s happiness. In most geranium beds, there will be an elf who oversees the entire area.
Geraniums as messengers foretell new happiness and vitality in our life. They also can show you where you may be missing opportunities for happiness. And they alert us to take advantage of new opportunities when they arise. Are we hesitating? Now is the time to act.”
Take-Away
Who knew?! What a delightful and most unexpected message to receive. And the synchronicity of this messenger arriving just as we approached today’s new moon, which calls upon us to plant seeds leading to new opportunities in the fertile earthiness of Taurus, is just wonderful to contemplate.
I love the intimation that where geraniums grow, an elf oversees that area. Gee, I’ve not been too obsessed with Beings hovering around the area lately, right?
There must be something I need to reflect upon more deeply that connects 2019 and 2021 than I’m realizing. I find it peculiar that in the span of two short days I’ve now experienced the return of two messengers that I only saw for the first time ever in 2019.
As I mentioned in my recent post, until I awakened on my birthday in 2019, I’d never seen a Pileated Woodpecker ‘in the feather.’ And after that single, exciting sighting two years ago, where it pecked (I should say drilled) its presence into my awareness right outside my bedroom window, I’ve not seen another one. Until two days ago.
And wow – witnessing the dance of those two Pileateds up and down and round and round the two trees just behind my porch was an astonishing opportunity. It’s hard to believe they didn’t sense my presence; they hung around for close to half an hour, and all that while, I was moving around, trying to get the best photos and videos of them with my phone.
Imagine My Surprise
So it’s easy to imagine my surprise, then, when I drove by my beloved Tohickon Creek and stopped in the middle of the road. I was only driving past my favorite place to sit and write because the fisherpeople are still swamping the area and all the usual places I park along the bank were taken. I didn’t expect to see anything out of the ordinary, but I do try to keep an eye out for the occasional special appearance of a creature – winged or otherwise.
The cause for my abrupt stop in the middle of the one lane road was the majestic presence of an Osprey staring directly at me from across the creek. At first, the presence of brilliant white plumage made me think I’d spotted a Bald Eagle. But when I looked closer, I knew I’d never seen the white feathers all down the front of the chest of an eagle. And the ruff of white around its neck was so prominent, it almost looked like the ruffs sported by lords or other royal denizens from medieval times.
I had to check my bird app, and there it was, described in detail in my Peterson’s Field Guide app. “…Perched (ospreys) appear long-legged and often show a narrow white stripe between shoulders and body; their wingtips extend just beyond tail tip.”
The only other ospreys I’d ever seen before today had been flying overhead, once along the Delaware and the other along the Tohickon, but much further down the creek.
Two For Two
Making today’s sighting even more odd was the fact that, not 20 minutes later, I saw yet another osprey flying overhead as I drove down Route 611. I was miles away from the Tohickon at that point – so a double appearance within minutes of each other was…remarkable.
And to think: two years ago I saw one each of these heretofore rarely seen (by me) creatures. And this year, in the span of two days, I saw two of each of them.
I don’t know. Seems like a pattern that demands some attention.
I don’t have much time to get this post written this evening. But I’m at least relieved that I can include some cool photos I took this evening. For a good portion of our walk tonight, Karl and I were accompanied by a polar bear and her cub.
To be honest, when I took the photos, I didn’t notice the cub. But I sure noticed it when I sent the photos to my laptop.
The beams of light emanating from the big bear’s head were a sight to behold. And to be honest, I took a bunch of photos of a variety of towering, gilt-edged formations that were sparking our imagination in a myriad of ways.
But then we rounded the corner and immediately noticed the polar bear walking along beside us.
Photo: L. Weikel
I don’t have time to look up the various meanings or messages that Polar Bear might be bringing. But truth be told, it simply felt like she was accompanying us on our journey. I’m delighted to realize, now, that her cub was along for the ride as well.
Finally, the moon becomes full after midnight tonight. But when I took her photo this evening, she sure looked like she was full already. Just in case it’s cloudy tomorrow, I have a great shot to share from tonight!
Here’s to traveling the first week of August together. At least we have our Polar Bear companions!
I adore the four-leggeds with whom we share our life. In fact, I cannot imagine my life without having at least one of them in the family. Luckily for both of us, Karl shares my need to be surrounded by my familiars.
Nothing proves that point more clearly than that we honeymooned on Cape Cod – and adopted a gorgeous solid gray kitten at the ASPCA in Brewster, Massachusetts. Yes, our very first official act as a married couple, on the very first business day of the week following our marriage that weekend, was to drive through Cape traffic instead of going to the beach to see if we could find a kitten to adopt.
Brewster was his name and he was a trooper. While he ruled the roost for a year on his own, he oversaw Karl’s birth and eventually schooled him on the proper way to sneak hard cat food when I wasn’t looking. He gamely and not begrudgingly shared our laps with his ‘little brother’ Karl.
Fast Forward to Today
At the moment we, as you’ve occasionally been made aware, we share our home with two dogs, Sheila and Spartacus, and three cats, Precious, Cletus, and Tigger.
I could write about our beasts every night. Especially lately, they’ve been providing me with an abundance of fodder, some amusing and some sort of hard, but I’ve been trying to hold off. Last night, however, brought a message that was hard to ignore.
Messengers
After completing my post for the evening, I made my way upstairs. Usually Spartacus is already upstairs with Karl, making a warm spot for me. Sheila, no longer able to navigate the stairs, sleeps downstairs in her soft furry bed. That makes me sad, but she doesn’t seem to mind, so I’ve become resigned to it.
Cletus religiously makes a pest of himself while I’m writing my post (every post, every night) by stomping around if he’s inside, howling to be let out, and then after he’s been outside for about 20 minutes, hurling himself against the screen door out front and sticking to it (with his claws) like Velcro – until his claws slowly rip the screen. That’s how he demands to come back in. He does this a couple times while I’m writing.
Precious is our paranoid one. If anyone came to visit (pre-Covid), she’d disappear and not be seen or heard from again. Not until the interlopers left. She’s mostly a loner, but every once in a while she’ll become frantically affectionate. It’s weird. But we love her. Even if she is a cellar-dweller.
And then there’s Tigger. We inherited Tigger from Sage after he (and his fiancé Sarah, truth be told) adopted him from a pet rescue place in central Pennsylvania. It ended up not being a great look for an RA to be harboring a fugitive kitty, so Tigger relocated to Bucks County. I think I’ve relayed the story of his name elsewhere.
Message to Mommy
Which leads me to the scenario that greeted me when I went to bed last night:
Mouse with Dog underneath – Photo: L. Weikel
I know; right? It’s as if they were lines up perfectly, in some surreal real-life enactment of a Medicine Card* pick! Mouse reversed with Dog underneath.
So freaking weird.
The only one who could’ve set this up would be Tigger. Had Precious participated in this macabre message delivery scheme, she definitely would’ve eaten the head off the mouse. Especially if she wanted to convey is as a ‘reversal.’
So. Tigger? Was that you? Were you behind this message to Mommy?
Judging from the faces appearing in the clouds as torrential rains approached us earlier tonight, I’d say we’re being visited by some distinctly opinionated wind spirits.
I can’t, and am not going to, venture to guess what messages these wind beings may be bringing us, but I do think it would be wise to heed them if we can. It’s possible they’re bringing each of us our own distinct message.
A Storm “Blowing” In – Photo: L. Weikel
For instance, you may look at the photos accompanying this post and think, “Of course I recognize the West Wind swooping down to clear away my fearful thoughts.” Meanwhile your neighbor may look at that very same photo and sense, “I need to have faith. I see and know that benevolence is looking down on me. I may be buffeted now, but this will pass.”
And then there’s the odd rectangular clouds that also preceded the wild and woolly torrential rains that hit us about ten minutes after I took these photos.
I have a couple of gut-level senses of what that cloud formation might be saying. But I’ll leave you each to your own interpretations.
Photo: L. Weikel
Working With the Winds
I think I can safely say that I am a middle-of-the-road person when it comes to oracles and interpreting signs and omens. What I mean by that is that I don’t make it a habit to rely solely on other people to interpret the messages that cross my path or come directly to me. But neither do I eschew the guidance or wisdom tools available to us that are designed to help us interpret our encounters with the numinous.
That’s one of the reasons I like to quote the books provided by authors of certain oracles or tarot decks. Some interpretations feel especially ‘tuned in’ to either the cards themselves – or – perhaps it’s just that they have similar sensibilities as I and so tune into the messages and articulate them in ways that feel natural to me.
Whatever it is, I like to approach discernment of messages in a balanced manner. I trust both my own intuition as well as the interpretations of others, provided they resonate with both my head and my heart.
Winds of Spirit
One unique and distinctive aid to helping us interpret the messages of the Winds in particular is a book written by a very dear friend of mine, Renee Baribeau. Her book is Winds of Spirit, Ancient Wisdom Tools for Navigating Relationships, Health, and the Divining*. This book is a valuable and unique addition to the field of augury and interpretation, and provides a wonderful compendium of Wind Beings that have been known to cultures across the world for eons.
I make no secret of my approach to the world, which is that there is sentience in everything. The Winds of the world have waited a long time for people to wake up to the fact that they are capable of being in relationship with us. This book provides us with ideas on how to enter into conversations with the Winds. Those chit chats could change your life.
I never cease to be amazed by the messages, guidance, and insight I receive from Mother Earth and her many children. Case in point: as I’ve mentioned recently, I’ve been indulging my feathered friends by religiously filling my peanut coil every day – in fact, sometimes twice a day, lately. There are some furred visitors who are also indulging (squirrels, opossums, raccoons), but other than the squirrels, the rest sneak around under cover of darkness! What I totally didn’t expect to learn about, however, was Grackle medicine.
I’ve seen grackles at our feeders every year. They didn’t tend to congregate at our feeders in any great numbers, and I never found them to be so remarkable that I considered them to be messengers of any sort. I can’t say I ever thought much about them other than to be slightly creeped out by their cold, yellow eyes that always seem to stare vacantly.
But this year is different.
Move Over Blue Jays
You may recall that Blue Jay seemed to be vying for my attention several weeks ago, leaving me feathers in many different venues and congregating at my feeders – especially the peanut coil. They seemed to be seeking my attention, so I did my best to follow up and listen to what they had to say to me.
Well, I must report that the blue jays and I are continuing to have a dynamic relationship, and they are quite demonstrative in their displeasure when I fail to refill the peanut coil fast enough. They’re also nudges. And I’m the first to admit – I respond to nudging (usually). Ok, sometimes.
Since around the beginning of April or so, more and more grackles started showing up in our yard. I’ve been watching them cultivate remarkable skills at peanut extraction. And they don’t seem to be bothered by my presence in the least. For the past two weeks or so, as I’ve noticed their numbers increasing, I’ve had the fleeting thought that I should ‘look them up.’ But I admit, as soon as I walked into the house, I’d forget the grackles completely.
Why? Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the upset of watching a pandemic spread across the world and take hold in our country with a vengeance. The stress of watching a virus that’s highly contagious and can easily be spread by asymptomatic carriers first be ignored by our government, then politicized. And then the horror of witnessing a man’s life callously snuffed out at the knee of a police officer, setting off a cultural upheaval over the systemic racism in our country and the scourge of police brutality. A pandemic within a pandemic. Yeah, I forgot to research Grackle for too many days.
But I digress.
Messengers?
Just yesterday, I again remarked to Karl that I think there’s something up with the grackles. I’d just watched one ever so carefully remove a peanut from the coil, take flight, dodge branches of bushes and trees, veer along our neighbor’s driveway, hang a right over our road and fly all the way past three more houses to an intersection. It would appear we’re feeding a massive population of grackles, including ones that don’t even live adjacent to our home. Clearly the grackle population is making a point to congregate at our house.
When a jillion of anything start to show up in my environment, I pay attention. Eventually. And yes, I’ll admit it – grackles are not a bird I would ordinarily wax poetic over. Did I mention their creepy yellow eyes? And they’re not particularly colorful, either, though I seem to recall them in others years having some striking iridescence on their shoulders. But the ones around here lately have definitely been non-descript. So I’ve been a bird snob. There. I admit it.
But they persisted, I’ll give them that. Not only did they keep showing up, but their numbers started increasing. And they were irritating, truth be told, with their harsh chuck chuck vocalization and, as described in Peterson’s Field Guide, “split rasping note” that, to my ear sounds like a scree!. Just this past week, I wondered aloud to Karl whether Grackle would even be covered in any of my books. Part of me thought they were surely too mundane to have their own entry. (I told you, I’ve been being a jerk of a bird snob. It’s a wonder they even deigned to continue vying for my attention.)
Let my resistance be an object lesson. Never underestimate the power of Mother Earth to simply wow us with her insight and guidance.
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
That’s a reflection of what I’m feeling inside, this Easter Day.
I can’t say I’m feeling ‘blue skies.’ Or ‘sunshine.’ But I can’t say I’m feeling ‘foggy,’ either, nor would I characterize my internal meteorological state as ‘blue,’ ‘miserable,’ or even ‘torpid.’
If pushed, I’d probably suggest ‘glorious,’ ‘volatile,’ turbulent’ and most definitely ‘changeable.’ Certainly ripe for transformation.
I’m ready. Ready to shake things up. Break out of my rut. Stop being so conventional.
Sensing Karl’s Presence
A few weeks ago, I was feeling the distinct sense that Karl was ‘around.’ Truth be told, his presence had receded to a great extent over the past two years or so. He was much more communicative (in his way) the first five years following his death.
While sad that the messages weren’t coming through to me anywhere near as often, I’ve also felt deeply at peace with it. In fact, I’ve actively refrained from reaching out to him; I want him to be moving on, continuing on his evolutionary path, doing whatever he was called to do ‘next.’ I certainly did not want to be responsible for tethering him in any way to this reality.
So imagine my surprise when he actually arranged for me to either meet in person or have a conversation with three different people (none of whom know each other, one of whom I’d never met before, a second I’ve not seen in person for at least 8 years and only spoken to sporadically, and the third I’d only met twice in my life, the last time being five years ago) all within the span of three weeks.
Three Unexpected – and Unrelated – Messengers
I should note that I did not know any of these women as people who actively communicate with beings on the other side of the veil.
Yet, in each of those conversations, none of which had anything to do with Karl, he ‘broke through’ and made himself and his presence known.
And each one of them gave me essentially the same message, which was Karl provocatively asking, “Mom, what’s it going to take? It’s time.”
Each instance, naturally, has been stunning. Astounding. Completely and totally unexpected. And as each encounter followed the other, the urgency of the core message became harder to escape or dismiss.
The invitation, his hand, is extended. I need only accept.
“There’s work to be done.”
Beam of Light (Breakthrough?), Easter 2019 – Photo: L.Weikel
Once again, if you’d asked me this morning what tonight’s post would be about, ‘magic’ would not have occurred to me, just as ‘trust’ wasn’t on my radar yesterday.
In case you didn’t notice, I was feeling a bit…passionate when I wrote last night’s post. Hard as it may be to believe, I’d actually brought it down a couple notches by the time I wrote the post. (You can imagine what it was like earlier that evening; it wasn’t pretty.) Indeed, I actually think I’ve been suffering from an adrenaline hangover all day today. My body aches and I’ve felt exhausted. Like a wet dishrag, actually. Just wrung the heck out.
Anyway, although Raven (which is associated with ‘Magic’ in the Medicine Cards), was not what I picked on my day this morning, it did end up being chosen by me in another context. And as the day unfolded, I honestly could feel Raven exercising its influence, even after the primary purpose for choosing it had passed. Indeed, I felt it working with the situation about which I was so upset yesterday.
While there are a couple of particularly salient paragraphs I could quote, I’m going to settle for just a few portions:
“If you have chosen Raven, magic is in the air. Do not try to figure it out; you cannot. It is the power of the unknown at work, and something special is about to happen. (…)
It may be time to call Raven as a courier to carry an intention, some healing energy, a thought, or a message. Raven is the patron of smoke signals or spirit messages represented by smoke. (…)
Remember, this magic moment came from the void of darkness, and the challenge is to bring it to light. In doing so you will have honored the magician within.”
Hurt Feelings Abounded
As it turns out, hurt feelings abounded last night, and not just on my end. Out of the darkness of that sense that I had unwittingly uncovered a betrayal from a completely unexpected source, the two of us were able to bring light to the situation.
Reflecting on the heartfelt emails that went back and forth between us today, I can only say that I know for certain both of us encountered magic. The volcanic eruption that occurred yesterday took us both completely by surprise. And yet, because we do have the level of trust that I described as only one tier below that of my inner circle of closest family, we each cared enough to express ourselves with utter vulnerability and honesty.
Need I say how startlingly rare that is in the world?
In the end, I am called upon to trust. I do not need the documentary proof that may or may not exist. I choose to rely on my instincts, and trust. I choose to listen to Raven, and embrace the magic.
Oh – one last thing? Moose was underneath that Raven. Wow.
