lenticular clouds Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

Even the Clouds

We’ve known it was coming; this time of unrest and instability in our country. If we didn’t, we were either kidding (lying to?) ourselves or deliberately refusing to pay attention to everything going on around us. And if we think it’s all over now, that January 6^th, 2021 was the worst expression we’d see of the rage and grievance that’s been simmering for over a century and stoked for the past four years, think again. Even the clouds are telling us: there’s a rough road ahead.

I started writing about what’s taken place so far and what is threatened over the next several days, but I deleted it. I don’t actually want to paint a picture with my words of the potential carnage (using that word deliberately) we may be forced to witness and endure.

I would rather float a beacon of hope on the waters of our collective disappointment, fear, and heartbreak over dreams dashed and hopes mocked. And the hope is this:

Through all of this, there has been one consistent liar. One person who, with a cadre of yes-people echoing his comments to give them greater volume, has tried to make everyone believe that the cause of their misery is someone else. And the fact is, right now, that liar, who has done everything he can to profit off their misery, is leaving them high and dry. My hope is that they will remove the veil from their eyes and see the truth – and instead of following through on what he’s stoked, step back and think twice.

Before it’s too late.

Lenticular Clouds

I believe the clouds that appeared on the horizon as we walked last Saturday, days after the 1/6/21 Trump Insurrection, were a metaphor for what we are experiencing right now.

Take a good look at these eerily shaped and exquisitely hued clouds. I confess I’m not a meteorologist, but they look, to me, like lenticular clouds. And I have to admit I was taken aback when I saw them, as I believe they are usually associated with mountains. (I’m most familiar with photos of lenticular clouds near the top of Mount Shasta.)

In fact, just before starting this post tonight, I looked up lenticular clouds just to see what I might find. The words used to describe them jumped out at me, given our collective circumstances.

Specifically, I read: “Lenticular clouds indicate great instability in that layer of the atmosphere, and form in areas of mountain waves. (…) It makes sense that it would be a ‘rough ride’. (…) If you see Lenticular clouds (standing wave clouds) you have visual proof the air above is very turbulent. Although pretty, those clouds are ‘mean’.” (emphasis added)

Holding the Vision

I’m still holding a vision for our country and our fellow citizens of a United States that becomes for real what we’ve always thought we were deep down inside.

We have within us the ability to transform into a thing of beauty. Sadly, it’s the transformation itself that many so deeply fear and resist. It’s going to take effort and dedication, courage and resilience to sustain the rough ride we’re on to get there.

Ultimately, we need to take care of each other. We need to love each other – at least enough to give our idealism a try. And if we can get to the place where we actually allow the light to come through – the fear and panic will melt away, and the turbulence will subside.

Let’s try to hold this vision in the coming days.

(T-315)

UFO Clouds – Photo: L. Weikel

Strange Evening

Yesterday Karl and I made a point of taking our walk a little later than the day before, when we knew we would have the best chance to witness the rise of the vaunted Super Pink Moon. We walked along one of the roads near our home that meanders through several fields belonging to a horse farm that sits atop a ridge. It’s a vast expanse of land and is a great place to observe all sorts of celestial events. It’s one of my favorite ‘go-to’ places when meteor showers, eclipses, and other such happenings are taking place in the night sky, although this turned out to be a somewhat strange evening.

As we waited for the moon to rise, we were distracted and intrigued by some unique cloud formations. Most noticeable were a handful of lenticular clouds that almost seemed to be moving ‘against the grain’ of the greater cloudbank behind them.

UFO clouds 2 – Photo: L. Weikel

Missing Time

The funny thing is, we were both hell bent on catching a glimpse of the moon rise, and by that I mean we wanted to catch sight of it as it rose above the horizon, since we knew it was supposed to be the largest ‘super moon’ of 2020. As a result, we were fixated on constantly checking the horizon line.

Meanwhile, these lenticular clouds were quite distracting – at least to me. The clouds seemed to be moving in relation to one another, in a more conscious than usual manner. I’m not entirely sure why they kept drawing my attention, but they did. And it felt as though they were communicating with each other. It was an odd feeling.

Photo: L. Weikel

Eventually, though, we decided that perhaps there was more of an overcast pall to the horizon than appeared to our eyes. So we decided to resume our walk, after having hung out at this spot for a good 20-25 minutes. As we started resuming our trek, one of the horses came galloping across the field toward us. I’d brought a carrot just in case, and walked back toward where the mare was now standing, grazing nonchalantly, pretending she didn’t really want any attention.

I called to the beautiful creature, holding out the carrot, when all of a sudden she arched her tail and took off like a shot, tearing across the field away from me like she was being chased by the devil.

All in all, an odd reaction that was completely unexpected.

I left the carrot inside the fence and caught up with Karl and the pups. We continued walking for about five minutes when – all of a sudden – I glanced to my left and there she was: Grandmother Moon in all her full, Super Pink glory, a beacon of glowing orange gorgeousness already a substantial distance above the horizon.

Karl and I just marveled at her magnificence. How in the world had we missed her slipping above the horizon?

It was as if we’d lost almost an hour of time. Between the odd clouds, the spooked horse, and the lost span of time between the moon rising above the horizon to when she became obvious to us, it just didn’t feel as though it added up quite right.

Finale

And as a grand finale last evening, after writing and publishing my post, I went outside with Sheila to give her one last opportunity to tinkle before bed. The sky was bright, and I knew where the moon should be – but once again, she was nowhere to be seen. The night sky was so uniform in appearance that it didn’t even appear to be cloudy. But it had to be. There were no stars. No moon in sight. And yet, as I said, it was ‘bright.’ Sheila, oddly, turned right around without doing a thing and made a bee-line for the door, as if to say, “Nope. Not peeing. Let’s get outta here.” (That’s significant for her, since she’s always good for a tinkle.)

We immediately went upstairs and got into bed. I read for about ten minutes and, falling asleep sitting up, turned my light out. It couldn’t have been half an hour later when I was awakened by flashes of really bright light. No thunder. Just lights. Lighting up our room. My first thoughts were of ambulances, weirdly, or search lights. But then I realized it was lightning – yet it seemed to be coming in all four of our bedroom windows. It was as if we were surrounded by lightning. And there was no thunder. I woke Karl briefly so he could at least fleetingly verify my perceptions.

Suddenly, rain pelted the roof. But the lightning didn’t relent. The flashing was almost kaleidoscopic. Yet somehow, in the midst of all of this, I just ‘decided’ to just go back to sleep.

The whole experience qualified as a very strange evening. And when I awakened, I could feel I’d slept hard – and deeply. It took a long while and a couple cups of coffee to feel fully ‘in’ my body.

Super Pink Moon w/cloud halo – Photo: L.Weikel

**And another layer of strangeness? Tonight’s post was the FIRST post in 514 days that I was unable to get published before I went to bed. My website’s server was down for over THIRTEEN HOURS.

(T-597)