fox

Farewell to 2022

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 6 Comments
Rosemary Sprigs – Photo: L. Weikel

Farewell to 2022

My intention as I write this post is that it will be read, or at least received, in the early morning hours of December 31, 2022. I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog lately and, more specifically, the relationship I feel with you, my (very cherished) readers. Some of you I know personally, but most I may never meet – face-to-face, at least. Yet in spite of that fact, I do in fact feel a bond with you. I miss the connection we cultivated over the years of writing (and you reading) my 1111 Devotion. Suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and bid farewell to 2022 – and share it with you.

I was walking in the golden slant of late afternoon sunshine, drinking in the balmy temperatures, weirdly unsettling after last week’s hellacious deep-freeze, when a fox raced across a field right in front of me. A Great Horned Owl hooted twice in the forest to my right, just as the sun dipped below the horizon. A lone Screech Owl whimpered its forlorn call from its perch close to the cliffs, long after the light of dusk had darkened to midnight blue.

Each of these encounters felt intimate and sacred. I know, on the mundane level, that these creatures could not care less about me. Indeed, if they were even aware of me, they undoubtedly wanted to escape my gaze as quickly as possible. (At the very least, I know the Fox started hauling ass across that field as soon as it made eye contact with me – an electric moment that I must admit was palpable.) But living in the mundane world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Beyond the Mundane

And I guess that’s what made me think about this blog in that moment. In each of those moments of connection with the wild, to be honest. Sure, there’s the mundane way of approaching our lives. It’s rote and mechanistic and borders on tragic. When I contemplate how most people live lives utterly devoid of magic (and often deliberately so), I want to cry.

If you’ve read my posts for any length of time, you know I’m not referring to the hocus-pocus brand of magic, although there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, in my opinion. Rather, I’m referring to the ‘magic’ of imagining a deeper relationship with the Beings with whom we share this planet. Yes, I feel creatures might show up in my world to urge me to pay attention to something in my life. And yes, I like to think there are invisible threads of connection between all of us – and we all ‘show up’ for each other, one way or another, when we need each other the most.

Time to Show Up

So I decided it was time for me to show up in your in-box (or Facebook feed or whatever) again. It’s time for us all to prepare for another set of seasons, another round of planting intentions, nurturing them as they take root, cultivating their growth, and watching them flourish.

But before we can expect those intentions to thrive, we need to clear away the hucha (heavy, unrefined energy) we accumulated from last year. Even if we had a banner year of mostly wonderful experiences, there’s no escaping the energetic dross that’s circulating in our collective environment. From images (and personal experiences) of war and the atrocities being perpetrated in the Ukraine and elsewhere, to the everyday revulsion our souls feel when realizing how much hate, fear, misogyny, racism, and just plain awfulness is in plain view, right before our eyes, being inflicted on each other, every day. Sometimes it’s almost too much to bear.

A Sweet Ritual to Let Go

Here is something I’ve done with family and friends, and which I feel honored to share with you. If you’re so inclined, pick up some fresh rosemary at the grocery store today. A sprig for each person in your household is perfect. Tie a ribbon or piece of colorful yarn around each one if you seek a festive look.

Pair up (but you can always do this to yourself if you’re welcoming the new year in in solitude) and take turns gently caressing the rosemary from the top of your partner’s head to the tips of their toes. Your intention, which you set at the beginning of this exercise, is to ‘sweep’ all the hucha from their energetic field surrounding their body.

Once you’ve done this for each other, if you have the ability to do so, burn the rosemary and watch your hucha go up in smoke. You are now cleansed of the energetic detritus of the past year, ready to embrace 2023 clean, fresh, and eager for new beginnings.

If you can’t safely burn your rosemary, I suggest either burying it or, as a last resort, simply throwing it away or composting it.

What’s most important is your intention to lovingly sweep clean your partner – and equally important – for you to willingly release your hucha.

I bid you a fond farewell to 2022.

Sunset 30 Dec 2022 – Photo: L. Weikel

Total Lunar Eclipse – ND #132

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Tonight’s Total Lunar Eclipse – Photo: L. Weikel

Total Lunar Eclipse

Standing in the middle of the vast expanse of fields and forest a few minutes ago, I was awestruck by the fact that the clouds were literally parting before my eyes to reveal the total lunar eclipse.

How many times have we sky watchers dare I say religiously trekked outside to bear witness to eclipses and meteor showers and all manner of celestial events, only to be thwarted by cloud cover? Too many to count, including quite a few missed opportunities documented right here in this blog. But not tonight.

A Big Deal

The myriad articles I read about this particular eclipse promised it would be especially spectacular. Tonight’s full moon in and of itself was special, as it is in its perigee (closest to the Earth in its orbit) and thus is considered a ‘super moon’ and should appear larger than usual. And the color of the moon when it enters the shadow of our Earth is supposed to be particularly ruddy due to lingering detritus in our atmosphere from an underwater volcanic eruption in January, off the island of Hunga Tonga-Hunga Ha‘apai.

This was one of the easiest eclipses I ever remember witnessing. I didn’t have to stay awake until 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. (or worse, get up at 4:00 a.m.). The weather was unbelievably pleasant, and the chorus of all manner of peepers and tree frogs wrapped around me and provided a surround-sound of reassurance. I kept telling myself that their astonishing resonance was proof to me that, at least as of this moment, our biosphere is healthy.

I did note a surprising blanket of silence from the rest of the creatures* that usually engage in midnight chatter or posturing. But the amphibians were totally into tonight’s ‘blood moon,’ and the companionship they provided me was truly a gift.

Total Lunar Eclipse – closeup – Photo: L. Weikel

Had To Share

I hope it goes without saying that I could not stare up into the vast reaches of space contemplating the Big (and Little) nuances of our existence without a yearning to share it with you.

We’re now right smack dab in the center of the first eclipse season of 2022. As if this total lunar eclipse isn’t powerful and significant in its own right to suddenly reveal things we may need to jettison from our lives, there are some additional aspects occurring this week that only add to the significance of what we’re all experiencing personally, nationally, and globally.

That said, while I’m sure I don’t need to remind any of my readers, if you live in PA make sure you VOTE in the primary on Tuesday. Make sure our voices are loud. And clear. Remember: this is a Blood Moon.

*Although at this moment, a fox has begun shrieking in the field across from our house. I guess the show’s over!

(T+132)

All I Can Do – ND #86

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Tonight’s sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

All I Can Do

Sometimes it’s all I can do not to just collapse into doom and gloom. I know that’s true for so many of us, watching from afar as chaos unfolds in Ukraine. We’re essentially helpless to stop the carnage. Sure, we can donate to organizations that can help the Ukrainians directly, either by providing food, clothing, shelter, transportation, and even defensive protection or by signing petitions, showing up in person at embassies or elsewhere – in other words, engaging in peaceful protest.

But then we’re confronted with insanity. How do you counter a leader who is muzzling his own people, shutting down all news organizations other than those spouting state-sanctioned propaganda, and even forcing his soldiers to drag around mobile crematoria that will clean up the evidence of Russian deaths, keeping his people ‘back home’ in the dark.

And we all know the tenterhooks the world is on now that we’re seeing shelling of Europe’s largest nuclear facility. Shelling a nuclear facility? What fresh hell is this madman aiming to create? And why would he shell a nuclear plant so close to his own border?

Today’s Fox – Photo: L. Weikel

Shift In Focus

There’s just too much unhinged behavior to even contemplate at the moment.

So I want to share with you the sweet sighting I had today as I walked. Nice little fox, wouldn’t you say?

I’ve tried to make it bigger, but it was still a stretch for my iPhone.

I also saw at least five red-shouldered hawks. I got a photo of one of them, but it’s hard to pick the bird out because it swooped down and against the backdrop of the trees at the edge of the field. If I could translate the ‘live’ action of iPhone’s live photos into the blog, I wouldn’t hesitate to post it. But I can’t.

Finally, Karl and I saw at least 28 turkeys cross the road ahead of us. Crossing from a field into the woods for the evening, where they’re undoubtedly roosting this minute, we counted at a minimum 28 birds. Amazing. And what an abundance of blessings.

Sorry – no photo of the turkeys we saw tonight. I couldn’t get close enough. But here’s one of other turkeys we’ve encountered.

Turkeys in the ‘hood – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+86)

Walk Without a Jacket – ND #66

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Fox or Hyena? I pick Hyena – Photo: L. Weikel

Walk Without a Jacket

Deep down, I didn’t believe them. The prognosticators promised today would be even more brilliant than yesterday, but it sounded too good to be true. And yet the prediction was so accurate, I was actually able to take a walk without a jacket. In February.

Even better, though, were the clouds. Oh my goodness. It feels like it’s been ages since the clouds came out to play. Wispy feathers of clouds were the instrument of choice in today’s sky.

The one I loved the most was the one I placed at the beginning of this post. Is it a visitation by Fox or Hyena? At first I was confident the creature prancing across the expanse of sky was Fox. But now that I’m looking at it here at home, I’m getting a much stronger Hyena vibe.

I’m pretty sure it’s the ears. As weird as it sounds, they remind me of the ears of the hyenas in one of my favorite Disney films, Lion King.

Of course, we all know someone else I hold near and dear who has huge ears. Yes, I’m looking at you, Pacha.

Pacha Pup Playing Coy – Photo: L. Weikel

Daffodils

As I wrote last night, I noticed the daffodils breaking out of the ground during my walk yesterday but declined to take their photo. Well, they beckoned to me when I passed them again today and this time I couldn’t resist.

I know full well the daffodils (and croci, for that matter) will handle a return to winter weather in stride. But still. I hate to see their hopeful stretches toward the sun turn brown.

Phoenix?

Perhaps a tad less obvious than the hyena was the glimmer of a phoenix rising on the horizon. Hey, with even just the barest tangential tracking of the news lately, it only seems right to look for hope wherever we can find it. And Phoenix energy, rising from its ashes as it does, is a decent cloak for a Cloud Being to don.

I almost lost my head today simply reveling in the freedom of walking without a jacket. Believe it or not, I came perilously close to skipping. Good grief, what a sight that would’ve been!

If you haven’t had a chance to revel in the weather these past two days, you have one more day. Be your own sweetie and treat yourself to the bliss of turning your face to the sky and soaking in Vitamin D from the Source.

Who knows what’s in store for us in the days ahead. Nurture yourself now.

Daffodils in February – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+66)

Magical Day – ND #63

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Barred Owl – Photo: Lehigh Valley Zoo (lvzoo.org)

Magical Day

Between us, Karl and I experienced quite the magical day today. We’re both feeling a bit ‘blissed out’ by it all, to be honest. It’s not that there was any heavy lifting involved. I think sometimes it’s just a matter of expanding our awareness enough to drink it in that can leave us needing to just power down and be still.

Karl began his day with a gorgeous Red Fox crossing in front of his car and then trotting confidently across a field. I wasn’t with him, but it was almost the first thing out of his mouth when he arrived home. He kept marveling at the creature’s robust health and the stunning color and condition of its coat.

Fox can signify a variety of messages, from family matters to creativity to using camouflage to keep oneself and one’s family safe and out of harm’s way. Karl’s trip happened to be all about family and the beauty of the Fox felt like a wonderful omen. His trip ended up being especially loving and sweet.

On his way home, he spotted an enormous Bald Eagle perched in a tree overhanging a road near our house. While we both know they’ve made a powerful resurgence in the area over the years, we never seem to lose our sense of excitement and awe when visited by Eagle.

Recently, most of my sightings have been along the Tohickon or the Lenape Sipu, and almost always when I’ve been alone. (Although I did see two just last Sunday when taking a walk with my friend along the Delaware!) I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen a crestfallen look sweep across Karl’s face when I recount seeing an Eagle.

So it was especially meaningful to have Bald Eagle visit Karl today. He finally felt like he was part of the club. And best of all, the raptor was scoping out potential quarry on a branch close enough to Karl that its markings were unmistakable. A powerful gift from Spirit.

Eagle – Photo: L. Weikel

My Magic

I’d already experienced an afternoon that reinforced for me how unbelievably lucky I am to do what I do. Maybe it’s more accurate to say ‘to witness what I do.’ Because really – I just create the space and watch things unfold. Anyway, it’s hard to describe, which is why I tend to dance around it most of the time, or not even bring it up at all.

Anyway, I knew I needed to walk after the session I had. I needed to ground myself; I needed to make sure I was back in my body. By the time we set out darkness had fallen. The constellations were stunning in spite of the brilliance of the half moon above.

Just short of a mile into our walk, I turned around to untangle myself from Brutus’s leash when a meteor suddenly streaked through the sky, right to left. It was surprisingly low on the horizon and large – burning a brilliant yellow with an outline of crimson. And it crossed the sky slowly (for a meteor) – it wasn’t some little blip. While I yelped out to Karl when I saw it, my gasp and garbled, “Look! Oh! WOW!” didn’t sink in quickly enough for him to see it.

There was something special going on in the cosmos tonight. Like I said, the constellations seemed especially vibrant and obvious. And by that I mean, the patterns seemed emphasized somehow. The sky was filled with stars, as usual, and often I just drink them all in with my eyes wide as possible. But tonight felt different.

Our Shared Magic

Finally, another mile into our walk the call of a Barred Owl echoed through the woods to our left. I could hardly contain my excitement. I don’t remember ever hearing a Barred Owl up here in our environs. The first time I’d ever heard one (and then heard several) was a few years ago in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina.

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Did you hear that?” I whispered.

Of course he had. It was the only sound in this silent February night. The “Who cooks for youoooooooo” call of the owl was coming from the same vicinity the coyotes had been howling a few nights ago. There must be a lot of action down there along that part of the creek.

The Barred Owl hooted another several times (one of which you can hear, above) giving me a chance to record it on my phone. It’s almost as if it knew when I had because as soon as I was satisfied, it went silent. I can’t explain why, but this encounter, too, felt…different. Magical, if you will.

(T+63)

Witness – ND #43

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Tigger enjoying a few tender moments alone – Photo: L. Weikel

Most Treasured

It’s funny. I keep trying to jump-start this post by declaring what I refuse to write about for a third night in a row. For once, I really wanted to witness victory being snatched from the jaws of all-but-certain defeat. But it was not meant to be. Apparently we really are going to have to live out the nightmare of watching our country’s most treasured and revered foundational concepts crumble before our eyes, mostly because people simply cannot wrap their heads around the fact that this ‘really could happen’ in the United States.

So tonight I’m just going to keep it light.

Cuteness Prevails

Take Tigger, for example. According to the adoption papers we received when he was rescued years ago by my son and his then girlfriend (now wife), he’s starting to get up there in years. In fact, I think he may be 16 years old or so.

Tigger is by far the most patient of all our animals, but especially the most patient of our felines. He was the first to welcome the pups with open paws, and he endures relentless acts of butt-sniffing and puppy-tackles on a daily basis. It’s rare for him to lash out at either pup. Indeed, the only times I’ve ever seen him hiss or retaliate in any form were when they either took him utterly by surprise or, not surprisingly, when they simply refused to knock off their antics after too many tumbles or nips.

As many of my photos attest, the pups tend to be hogs when it comes to nestling in front of the fire. Once they’ve outgrown puppyhood, I’m pretty sure they’ll welcome cuddling with the felines – or perhaps I should say the cats may decide it’s safe to snuggle with them. But in the meantime, they swing from one end of the spectrum (as bundles of effervescent energy) to another (dead-weight, snoring, lights-out immovable lumps) in the blink of an eye. Consequently, the cats are finding languishing fireside to be an indulgence they rarely experience.

And so it was adorable earlier today when I discovered Tigger snatching a few zzzz’s hearthside, sharing the pet pillow with one of the pups’ favorite toys: the Fox. (The pups were asleep in their crate; I forget why.)

“MY Fox” – Photo: L. Weikel

Melts My Heart

It’s moments like these that melt my heart. Tigger, as old as he is, still plays like a frisky kitten – when the mood strikes him. Usually the mood hits when I’m making our bed. He mrrrows and arches his back, hops sideways and tackles my hand when I’m smoothing out the comforter. He’s hilarious. But I also watch him as he observes the mad scrambles of Pacha and Brutus when I throw their toy (the Fox, again, being a favorite) and they race to bring it back to me.

If it weren’t below his dignity, I actually think he’d be tempted to race after the toy himself and triumphantly bring it back to me. Or at the very least, jump on it and fling it a couple of times.

He just jumped up on the couch and mrrrowed to me. “Time for bed, Mommy.”

So now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to forget about the sad state of our country and go snuggle with my Tiggery.

(T+43)

Two Amazing Sightings – Day 953

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Not the One From Today – Photo: L. Weikel

Two Amazing Sightings

I experienced two amazing sightings today – and I’m chagrined to admit I have not a single photo to prove either one of them took place. It makes me want to cry.

The first one occurred while I was sitting outside on my porch having a conversation with a client. I was lost in thought, focused on my client’s side of the conversation. I was barely aware of what was in front of my face.

Suddenly, bursting into my awareness like a shot from across the road, a burnt orange splash of fur tears toward me from across the road, traverses my driveway, and streaks into my neighbors’ back yard. I’m sure the coincidence of their chicken coop in the back yard had nothing to do with the direction this sniper was headed.

Totally Different

Today’s Foxy encounter was substantially different than the one I had with the adorable little kit pictured above. (I may not have been quick enough to get a photo of the teenager I saw today, but it is a good excuse to post kit’s photo again.) That time, the cutie seemed oblivious to me as it meandered unselfconsciously near the culvert at the side of the road.

It was as if the fox that crossed my path today was fired out of a cannon. It streaked across my field of vision, tail straight out behind it. For once, I had a momentary (extremely momentary) appreciation for the excitement of fox hunting. (Seriously – I loathe this so-called sport.) But watching this sleak, gorgeous animal hurdle seamlessly over obstacles and run with such adroit finesse and speed, I could see why trying to catch one is so difficult. It doesn’t excuse it; but it sort of helps me understand why it might be considered a challenge to outsmart one.

Also Not the One From Today – Photo: L. Weikel

Number Two

The second sighting I made today was of an Eagle. The Bald Eagle I saw flying up the Tohickon Creek was just a little bit above eye level with me. The nonchalance of its power and dominion over the wildlife on the Tohickon was stunning. This raptor has nothing to prove to anyone.

The slow, audible flap of its wings was the antithesis of desperation – or even of hunger. I got the distinct sense that the Blue Jays losing their minds as it flew past their nests were screeching from painful past experience. Lucky for them, neither petite Blue Jay tartare nor Blue Jay omelettes were on the menu.

Come Back

At least in our area, it’s obvious the Bald Eagle population is making a comeback, which is outstanding. But I have to admit – no matter how pedestrian an Eagle sighting may become due to the success of conservation efforts, it will always be an utterly thrilling experience for me.

An Eagle sighting, to me, represents the potential for contact with the Divine. Eagle feathers are treasured spiritual tools for native North Americans. They are a direct connection with Great Spirit.

And honestly? I remember when they were endangered. I was 31 years old and all the way up in Maine before I even caught a glimpse of an Eagle for the first time – and even then, I barely saw some tail feathers. Nevertheless, the experience will remain a treasure in my heart forever. A girl never forgets her first Eagle.

Who knew I’d be so lucky when I was twice that age to have them virtually in my own back yard. It feels absolutely miraculous.

(T-158)

Full Moon Fox – Day 897

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Fox Kit – Photo: L. Weikel

Full Moon Fox

Oh! I am so excited to share with you the amazing gift I received today. Just take a look at this adorable full moon Fox kit that I encountered on our walk this evening.

Spartacus and I elected to do the longer walkabout today, while Karl agreed to meet us halfway. I can tell you, he was one bummed out guy when I showed him the photos I’m including in this post. This is the second time Spartacus and I have stumbled upon a baby fox on one of our walks – and Karl missed both times.

I also managed to video the kit, or pup, when it trotted out of the drainage ditch and looked directly at me without an ounce of fear. It even turned and faced me head on, with obvious curiosity, when I called to it in my ‘babies and small animals’ voice. Maybe I’ll try to recall how to post the clip to my YouTube account. (I hate how I post to YouTube so seldom that it’s like reinventing the wheel every time I want to do it.)

Photo: L. Weikel

Perfect Timing

As you can imagine, I was especially lucky to encounter the kit when and where I did. As Spart and I crested the biggest hill on our walkabout, a stone barn is situated close to the edge of the single lane road we’re on at that point. It just so happened that I could see the kit emerging from the grassy culvert – but Spartacus couldn’t! He was too close to the ground and a low stone wall shielded his view.

Spartacus is such a good boy (and admittedly a little slower on the uptake than he used to be) that I was able to put the leash on the ground and stand on it, freeing up my hands to take the photos and video. He was happily oblivious for the most part, although he did act slightly suspicious when I used my sing-song voice to call to the baby fox.

Handsome Profile – Photo: L. Weikel

Two In Two Days

Perhaps Fox is trying to get my attention. Just the night before, we were walking beside a field about two miles away from this sighting (as the crow flies), when I saw what appeared to be a deer laying down in the field. I commented to Karl how weird it was that we would see deer laying in the middle of a field two days in a row – when suddenly we saw the ‘deer’ start to lope across the field. Nope! It was a fox; a full grown one at that.

I was frustrated at that sighting because the fox was so far away, it was but an auburn smudge in the photo I took. And I would never have guessed I’d be so fortunate as to ‘run into’ this little one only a day later.

Perspective – Photo: L. Weikel

A Message?

Of course, I’m very familiar with the “camouflage” message of Fox described in Medicine Cards* by Jamie Sams and David Carson. But tonight I feel especially drawn to the words of Ted Andrews in his book Animal-Speak. He describes the “Keynote” of Fox as “Feminine magic of camouflage, shapeshifting and invisibility” and its “Cycle of Power” as “Nocturnal, Dawn, and Dusk.” And while he provides seven pages of information on the various attributes Fox has that might bear reflection and integration into a person’s life who has Fox medicine or to whom Fox appears, this seemed relevant just now:

“The fox has a long history of magic and cunning associated with it. Because it is a creature of the night, it is often imbued with supernatural power It is often most visible at the times of dawn and dusk the “Between Times” when the magical world and the world in which we live intersect. It lives at the edges of forests and open land – the border areas. Because it is an animal of the “Between Times and Places,” it can be a guide to enter the Faerie Realm. Its appearance at such times can often signal that the Faerie Realm is about to open for the individual.”

Hmmm. Cool message to receive on the night of this full moon. Thank you, Full Moon Fox!

Full “Super Moon” in Scorpio – Photo: L.Weikel

*Affiliate link

(T-214)

Mixing It Up – Day 547

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Nothing But Swirls and Fenceposts – Photo: L.Weikel

Mixing It Up

If you’ve been reading my posts for any length of time, first of all thank you, and second of all you probably realize that you never know what I’m going to write about from one day to the next. It’s the old “keep ‘em guessing” strategy. You know: mixing it up so you never know if you’re going to miss one of the good ones – making every day’s offering an adventure of discovery.

Yikes. I’m dredging from my college days now, making whip-smart use of that psychology degree by employing intermittent reinforcement to the readers of my blog posts. B. F. Skinner would be proud.

Actually, it’s not intentional. Not in the nefarious way I’m alluding to, anyway. It is intentional in respect to the fact that I try to stay away from writing too much about any one subject. My thoughts do bounce around from one topic to another.

A Niche

I think maybe I thought, or was hoping, I’d have discovered a niche by now. But no. Five hundred forty seven days into the 1111 Devotion project and no discernible niche has revealed itself. I guess I’m just a jack-of-all-subjects and master-of-none.

If you were to take a gander at the photos on my iPhone, though, you might come to another conclusion. You very well might think, “This chick should’ve become a meteorologist. Clearly she has a thing for clouds and other weather events.” And you would not be wrong.

Clouds

I adore clouds. I’m confident this comes as no surprise to any of you. And I particularly love letting my gaze soften when I look to the sky and allowing myself to simply see what’s up there. Like the angel’s wings I wrote about last week, and any number of other posts I’ve share about clouds that have appeared to me in intriguing shapes.

Just a day or so ago, I caught this one:

Fox Chasing Bird – Photo: L. Weikel

In my imagination, I easily see a fox chasing an oversized bird right across the sky.

No, I don’t feel there’s any particular message associated with that image. It’s simply a delight. A whimsical interlude punctuating one of our walks.

And that’s an important aspect of what I do as well, or perhaps how I approach life, that many people don’t realize. I don’t try to wring a message or a lesson out of every single thing that happens to me or that comes to my attention. I know it may seem as if I do, but in truth, there’s a unique sense of significance that I sense deep within when I encounter a ‘message.’

Cultivating that sense is something that comes with practice. But first things first – which means, you have to do a lot of noticing and paying attention to realize which experiences coming your way are messages and which are simply interludes of beauty, or pain, or something else in your life that are ‘only’ important in that moment.

 

(T-564)

Night Visitors – Day 442

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Night Visitors

Just as I was settling in to write my post for the evening, Sheila asked to go out. Both Karl and I hop to it when she meanders toward the door. We’ve learned our lesson.

Tonight was no different.

But letting Sheila out to go to the bathroom is no longer a rote exercise. No. We need to remain vigilant during these excursions because the poor old girl can easily wander off into the darkest corners of the world or become discombobulated and forget how to come back up the steps without stumbling over roots or getting lost in the weeds. It’s painful to watch her walk into the slender, wrought iron bird feeder poles – and amazing, actually, that she manages to find them to bonk herself on.

Tonight, though, went without a hitch. Until I was guiding her back into the house.

That’s when I felt my stomach clench.

Across the scrabble of rocky soil and haphazard collection of ash, maple, oak, and walnut trees separating our land from our neighbors’, I heard a distinctly chilling scream. There was the tiniest hint of a bark within the eerie exclamation, but it was mostly an unsettling cry that involuntarily raised the hackles at the back of my neck.

Sheila, being quite deaf, was unfazed. The cries continued.

Chicken Alert

I should mention that even further beyond that collection of deciduous trees is a hill-and-dale expanse of lawn and a couple of outbuildings. And then, in plain sight to us during the day, but not so obvious at night, is our neighbor’s chicken coop. (You might recall this to be the old stomping grounds of the late lamented Duckhead.)

I cocked my head to one side, trying to locate the origin of the cries. I tried to discern whether that yelping and those unsettling screams were coming from near our neighbors’ chicken coop or perhaps from across the way, in the borderlands between the neighbors and the pasture where my beloved donkeys reside and bray vociferously – especially at night.

I’m pretty sure the fox (or foxes, for all I know, since January is mating season and they may be frisky) was further away than hanging out near ‘my girls.’ Had I sensed the chickens were in true danger, I probably would’ve texted our neighbors to alert them that there might be trouble. Either that or walked over there myself, armed with a flashlight. But I could see that all the lights were out so my neighbors were presumably tucked in bed for the night.

Meanwhile, Sheila had found her way back up the stone steps and onto our porch. She stood patiently at my feet, nose up against the the metal screen door, having yet again successfully negotiated the obstacle course that is part of the challenge of relieving oneself when you’re 15 ½ years old, mostly blind and even more deaf.

I marveled at how close the foxes were this evening and how their calls give me goose bumps when carried on the wind.  I wonder if those calls wake the chickens – or just feature scarily in their dreams.

Do chickens dream, I wonder?

Ah, Duckhead. He was a beauty; Photo: A.Kowal

(T-669)