Raptor at My Back – Photo: L. Weikel

Raptor Watcher

I’ve been talking to Spirit a lot lately. Asking for guidance, maybe a friendly nudge in the right direction, yesterday in particular I sensed I was being heard. I feel I’m on the verge of receiving a response to my queries. And the reason for my optimism is the appearance of the raptor watcher.

The air feels pregnant to me; it’s almost electric in the sense of power I feel is building, but not yet found a place to strike.

As I drove to and from the courthouse yesterday, I must’ve seen at least six hawks. Not all at once, as in, a kettle of hawks. No, each one made an appearance as a unique and distinct visitor to my awareness.

At least four of them were being hounded by crows and smaller birds, perhaps sparrows or possibly starlings. It was obvious the hawks being bombarded had been on nest-raiding missions. Were these details significant? Who knows! I wasn’t feeling the love nor sensing a particular message.

Stop at the Creek

On my way home I decided to make a quick pit-stop at the Tohickon. Honestly, I didn’t feel particularly worthy of having a chat with her in that moment, but too much time had elapsed since I’d stopped and said hello. I even vowed not to whine to her if I stopped for five minutes just to settle my bones.

I parked in my most frequented pull-over spot and marveled at how low the water table is. The banks of the Tohickon appear dry and exposed, which worries me, given it’s only the 21^st of May. What will the creek look like in early August?

As I exited my vehicle, I started speaking out loud to both the Tohickon herself and the creatures who live within and along her banks. I deliberately tried to steer the conversation away from my prior musings and questions, which echoed like whining to me in that moment.

No. I didn’t need anything obvious. All I needed was some creek time, some quiet and peaceful ‘alone time’ with the body of water from whom I source significant personal energy.

I scanned the trees lining the opposite side of the Tohickon for any avian visitors. Not a one in sight. I guess I’ve seen enough hawks for the day, I thought. And in that moment, I turned my head to look to my right. Right there, vaulting from a tree across the way from me was a Bald Eagle high tailing it downstream. As soon as I caught sight of it working its way down the creek about five feet above the surface of the water, it veered off to the right and disappeared.

“Get your nest out of the swamp,” I heard echo in my head. “Stop indulging in these sad thoughts,” was another comment. “Knock it off,” said an even less patient messenger.

Blue Heron Chimes In

There’s no question I felt moved and honored by Eagle’s decision to show up in my life, even if it was brief and only showing me its hind end. Hopefully I’ll never take Eagle’s appearance in my life for granted.

I reminded myself that I’d stopped to take photos of the Tohickon and the shocking shallowness of her waters. Taking my iPhone out of my pocket, I snapped a shot downstream, wishing Eagle would pop back out and make another appearance. But no. That didn’t happen.

I turned to look upstream and nearly fell over when I realized I was fewer than ten yards away from a Blue Heron standing proudly erect on a boulder just beyond where I stood. Oh my goodness, what a surprise. And to think all this time I’d been blithely talking out loud to the creek and to any other creature that happened to be listening.

“No one’s going to give you the answers you seek. You need to go within and do your own self-reflection,” I heard. “Listen to Eagle. Get your nest out of the swamp. Spend some time by yourself. You know the questions you need to ask. And you know you’re the only one who can answer them.”

Ummm. OK.

Final Point

About 90 minutes later, I found myself walking with Spartacus. Still encountering some internal static in spite of my Creek encounters, I wasn’t even of a mind to pull a card or engage in any of my trusted practices. I just walked and picked up butts along the roadside.

A fracas in the stand of trees behind me caused me to turn around. I saw Crows dogging a Red-tailed Hawk for probably the fifth time that day.

And then I saw it. Looming in the sky above me. Had those messengers not secured my attention, I almost certainly would have missed the Raptor Watcher at my back.

No, the title to this blog was not a reference to me as a watcher of raptors. Rather, it was a reference to the Raptor – be it a Hawk or an Eagle, I can’t quite discern which – that had its eye on me as I walked home last night. I’ve been given the word. Will I listen?

(T-189)