Bobcat Visits
No one but me by the fire, …
What is precious
inside us does not
care to be known
by the mind
in ways that diminish
its presence.
What we strive for
in perfection
is not what turns us
into the lit angel
we desire,
what disturbs
and then nourishes
has everything
we need. …
David Whyte (from his poem The Winter of Listening in David Whyte: Essentials)
Ahh! Winter. At last. Moist, white nourishment from above.
Recent winters here in the Sangres have brought little snow, the white blanket landscape that aligns with my inner longing for quiet. Stillness. More attention to matters of the heart. Listening to heart, to Soul, to all Life.
That annual longing began to rise in me early this year, just as temperatures lowered and leaves, following their natural rhythm, began to turn in response. The longing deepened in me as blessed moisture in the form of snowflakes blanketed the ground last week and deepens further still as another round of snow is falling this blog morning. Perhaps this wintry weather and my recent encounters with wildlife portend the beginning of a true ‘listening winter’.
As I was sitting quietly by the fire a couple days ago, movement just outside the door caught my attention. Coyote, I guessed. Incorrectly. Moving to the window, bobcat came into full view, moving gently, yet deliberately across the snow-covered ground. Another followed. Mesmerizing to observe.
A solitary Being bobcat is. Comfortable being alone with itself. Silent. Discerning. Holding close what it knows is to remain hidden. Like the quiet in the snowy landscape that I experience as so comforting. Silent beauty to behold. Silence and beauty that beckon me within. Into a winter of listening with all my senses.
After several minutes of exploration around the wood stacks, bobcat make their way into the woods, out of sight, but not out of mind or heart. I return to the fire with gratitude for being blessed to observe their presence and with deeper reverence for place and for Life. All Life and the wonder that Life holds if we dare to behold its beauty.
A bit later I set out for a short sunset walk to stretch my legs, move my body, and take in more of the snowy landscape. Down the road I paused and turned southward to take in the beauty of distant Blanca Peak, the fourth highest peak in Colorado, a mountain held as sacred and called Sisnaajini by the Dine (Navajo) peoples. I hold my gaze for a bit, then as I’m feeling deep gratitude for Being in this place and musing why our culture doesn’t more fully honor the sacredness of place, I notice a small group of mule deer have wandered into view close by.
Gentle wanderers, in their own way they, like bobcat seem to be inviting me to the inner journey of winter ahead. More silent beauty to behold in the Winter of Listening ahead.
Sacred Blanca Peak and Mule Deer at Sunset