I Blinked – Day 819

Tundra – Photo: L. Weikel

I Blinked

I blinked and the weekend was over. It feels like I fell into a time warp or something.

The really weird thing is that all day Friday I kept thinking it was Saturday. So you’d think having an ‘extra’ day would’ve made the weekend feel longer. Alas, it did not.

Perhaps it was all the big plans I had for the weekend. I had my sights set on crossing a lot of things that have been hanging over my head (or lurking in the recesses of my mind) off my list. Just setting them up like pins and knocking them down: plink, plink, plink.

I think I may have succeeded in getting one plink plunked. But then the snow came.

Classically Lovely

Somewhat surprisingly given the bland wimp-out winters of virtually no snow we’ve experienced over a past fair number of years, we actually got an additional 8-10” of snow today. And that’s on top of the 18” or so we received just last Monday!

This snow, though, was one of those classically lovely ones where the fluffy precipitation piles up on even the tiniest branches of all the trees, as well as the bushes, fence posts, weeds and wires. Suddenly the world is outlined in a generous blanket of cotton candy.

It’s been a veritable snow extravaganza here over the past seven days, to be honest. And I hear there’s potential for more in the offing, perhaps as soon as Thursday. It makes me want to get a sled out of the garage and go sleigh-riding down the hill near the creek. Much to my chagrin, however, I can feel black and blue spots just itching to be birthed should I indulge that desire. The sadness I feel in admitting that truth is real.

Starry Forest – Photo: L. Weikel (Note: Sirius at the bottom center of the photo)

Nevertheless, We Walked

In spite of all the shoveling, Karl and I did squeeze in a walk. Neither one of us really felt like it, but we were rewarded for our persistence beyond measure.

I was able to capture some moments that are startlingly diverse. One shot looks like we were walking in the tundra. Another feels more like a stroll along a path in the midst of a vast forest with only the stars to guide us. And a third makes our yard look like a fairy wonderland courtesy of the Christmas lights we left up for just this opportunity.

The leg of our journey that took us through the forest yielded a shout out from both a screech owl and a Great Horned owl.

It just doesn’t get any better than this.

Candy Lights – Photo: L. Weikel

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Astral Magnificence – Day 806

Photo: L. Weikel

Astral Magnificence

If you read my post from last night, you know I was hoping to write about photos I’d taken during the walk Karl and I took last night. Sometimes circumstances all dovetail perfectly to create a moment of such astral magnificence that your breath catches in your throat and you wonder if your heart can hold it all. That’s kind of what we felt last night.

And it’s also why I talked about the Wagons of fellow journeyers (Travelers) I’m setting up each week as part of my Shamanic Caravan. One of the participants last night tried to describe the ‘space’ she’d experienced and it was obvious to all of us that the experience bordered on indescribable loveliness.

Over the years I’ve had a few journeys in which I’ve traveled to places that reminded me of being in the middle of a photograph from the Hubble Spacecraft. They sort of gave me an exquisite sense of being immersed in infinity.

Trust me, the vast majority of journeys that I’ve experienced have been far more mundane. Just writing that sentence sort of makes me laugh, though. What’s mundane – ever – about a first-hand experience of another reality?

Winter Night Sky – Photo: L.Weikel

Last Night’s Sky

The first set of photos I sent to myself last night never arrived. By the time it got to be 4:30 this afternoon and they still hadn’t appeared, I re-sent them to myself. Voila! But a short hour later (eye roll), they arrived in my inbox.

The sky this evening was overcast and the moon, which is waxing to reach fullness by this Thursday, was barely visible behind a thick layer of wooly clouds full of winter wetness. The look and feel of the two nights, while back to back, could barely have been more disparate.

No.

Tonight we were closed in. Colors all around us were muted and bleak. The murky sky admitted a moon existed but gave it no respect.

Last night? We witnessed majesty. Shadows, although sharply defined, weren’t at all scary. They simply offered refreshing clarity. But the greatest gift was when we looked up. Up and out and drank in the stars and the light catching wispy forms of…something.

One of the photos gives me the unmistakable sense of the presence of Great Beings. And perhaps we were. Or are. Maybe last night we were peeking behind the curtain of the Wizard of Oz and seeing the truth of what’s actually the foundation of the journeys we’re taking.

All I know is, I want to share this magnificence with all of you.

Astral Magnificence – Photo: L. Weikel

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An Old Refrain – Day 737

Waxing New Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

An Old Refrain

Whoosh, what a blast of chilliness blew into our area last night! While I haven’t seen or felt any yet myself, a coating of flurries was due to arrive sometime this evening. And in spite of an urge on both Karl’s and my part urging us to forego bundling up and venturing out, we pushed through. We did it, and it was the highlight of our evening. Hence, I’m launching into an old refrain: when you’re feeling glum or defeated or overwhelmed with the state of the world, take a walk.

Yes, the air was crisp. Tonight was the first time this season we had to bundle up and break out our neck gators. Aaaah – made of Turtle Fur, I must admit, I adore how soft and warm they are. They make all the difference when contemplating braving the elements. Keeping your neck warm is essential.

The Real Good Stuff

But enough of my late fall dressing tips. What was really important for us over the past two nights of walking was the gloriousness of the night sky. First, the sliver of a moon last night, which became noticeably larger and brighter crescent in the passage of just one evening.

As you can see, I managed a lovely shot of that tiniest of new moons last night – dangling enticingly in the burnt orange sky.

While tonight, although she was dramatically brighter and a noticeably more pronounced waxing crescent, I couldn’t for the life of me get a good shot of her. I did try; and I could share them with you. But nah. They didn’t do her justice.

Vast Beauty of the Night – Photo: L. Weikel

Starry Cloudy Night

So I turned my attention away from the setting moon and onto the clouds parting directly above, revealing a thick blanket of glitterati.

I’ll confess: Karl and I had both been in a bit of a foul mood as we cajoled each other into taking our evening constitutional. It’s helpful, as always, when Spartacus gets wind that we’re “going to take a walk-y.” His enthusiasm is sometimes the only thing that drags or guilts us into setting out – especially when it starts getting cold out.

But we did tonight. Thank goodness.

The spiraling crisis of the pandemic as it starts to devastate the Midwest and Southwest, as it starts to raise its ugly head again here on the East coast, is sobering. If we’re paying attention, we can see the irrefutable proof that gathering with anyone beyond our own household for Thanksgiving or the Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanza holidays (not to mention New Years) could result in rampant community spread, hospitalization, and potential death.

We walked. We reveled in the recollection and appreciation of just how precious our lives are in this moment. Gazing upon the growing young moon and boundless stars has that effect on most of us. But it’s easy to forget. It’s easy to talk ourselves into staying home, hunkering down, and ducking for cover.

But I promise you. There’s still plenty of time to cuddle and cocoon upon your return. But there’s no substitute for a dip into the vastness of Mother Nature to remind us that life is fleeting. It’s healthy to expand our horizons and remember just how precious these moments are.

Starry Cloudy Night – Photo: L. Weikel

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Sky Guide – Day Ninety One

dariustwin.com

Sky Guide

I want to tell you about a really cool app I have on my iPhone. Given the title of this post, you’ve probably already guessed. It’s called Sky Guide.

It is, quite literally, the manifestation of dreams I would have as a little girl gazing up at the wide open sky, especially in the summer. You know the feeling. Wishing you could put a name to the star or the cluster when we’re walking under the stars, when the moon is new and the sky’s only lights are the stars.

How Many Times Have You Wished You Could Name Them?

As I sit here writing this, I’m having flashes of moments throughout my life when I’ve lain on the ground (usually on a blanket or comforter, sometimes a sleeping bag, a couple of times directly on sand or grass) and tried to take in and comprehend the vastness of “Above.” The times I’ve thrown my head back so I could stare straight up, usually wide-eyed and open mouthed as I let out a continuous, breathless, “Wow…,” as I tried to hold the visible Universe within my heart.

I can access surprisingly precise memories of wanting to drink in the sky with my open heart in so many places around the world…and wishing I could identify more of what I was looking at than the Big Dipper (when I was in the Northern Hemisphere, obviously). I almost started ticking off the locations of those memories – they’re so vivid – and then realized it might sound pretentious.

Indeed, it surprises me myself to consider the many different places I’ve been fortunate to visit and have the chance to observe the night sky. Looking up, no matter where you are, can be both profoundly humbling and reassuringly unifying.

Suffice it to say, no matter where I’ve gone, I’ve always managed to feel infinitesimally insignificant as I gazed upward, regardless of whether I found myself looking at stars and constellations that were comforting in their familiarity (even if I couldn’t name them) or a tad bit quease-inducing in their unfamiliarity. (Sort of like being in a dream and feeling like you should recognize the place you’re in, but nothing looks quite right.)

Well, I’m ready to return to some of the more exotic places I’ve been – only this time going armed with my phone and this app.  It. Is. So. Cool.

Cool Options That Enhance the Experience

Not only can you point the phone toward any star, planet, or constellation and have it identified, you’ll also be alerted to cosmic events, satellites, and other phenomena you might find attention worthy.

There’s an option for music to play softly in the background when you turn the app on and point it wherever. Obviously, you’ll instantly recognize it as ‘celestial’ in the ambiance it creates. It just fits. And in my opinion, enhances the experience. (And if you disagree, you can turn it off.)

Since the app knows what is below the horizon, you can now see ‘through’ the Earth too. This makes it possible to see what will be rising later. For instance, as I look at the app right now, I can see Saturn, Venus, and Jupiter hanging out just below the horizon.

There are a variety of options in the settings. One particular favorite of mine is how objects in the sky are not only identified, but also placed into their mythological context. It still boggles my mind that our ancestors had such vivid imaginations!

Full disclosure: I have very few apps on my phone. So the fact that I’m actually taking the time to write about this app has to tell you something. And no, I do not receive anything for this endorsement. (Other than you’re enthusiastic gratitude, that is.)

Sky Guide costs $2.99.

In my book, it is worth every penny. I bet you’ll agree with me – and discover it’s an answer to your childhood dreams, too.

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