A Buck and the Bell
What does Nature say?
A few days back in the early morning the temperature at dawn was only a couple degrees colder than the normal high temperature for that day. As I opened my journal and picked up the pen this was the stream of words that came. “Mild morning – 30 degrees, house chilly, no fire last night – VERY unusual. Fire going now – warming and lovely.”
“I feel Nature’s confusion … ‘tis the season of winter,
And no snow on the ground
Chilly not COLD
Other than an occasional blast (for a day or so)
Then warming with low temps as high as the normal high and
High temps reaching towards records.
My heart feels the inward pull
Of the season – ‘Snuggle in, Rest, Read, Contemplate.
The warmth and sun pull me out.
Like a see-saw, tug-of-war on the playground of Life. DoBeDoBeDoBeDo…
I don’t know how to be in these woods in this season without snow,
The Earth without her white blanket. Is She patiently confused?
What might She know that I do not yet ‘hear’, my untrained senses trying to make sense of the season that doesn’t match my mountain experience?
But is more like the experience from another place, another time this life,
Sea level in Houston or the Llano Estacado in Lubbock – warmer winters.
I break my writing flow to tend the fire. The beauty and warmth of the slow burning logs and multicolored flames draw me in and
I feel a wave of warmth, of depth, of gratitude for all that makes possible my comfort.
Logs added with a full heart, I notice the sky – brilliant orange, red, pink on the horizon and I step outside to the distant sound of Raven – ‘the Magic is Love’ –
Yes, Raven, I remember . These words of your ‘Caw’
Will not be forgot. And I will listen as you speak for other wisdom you may impart.
Flowing in the morning stream is a joy that settles and soothes
Offering a way of Being in the Doing of this day.
I move with gratitude,
Still curious about the confusion that sits in me …
What does Nature say?”
When one asks a question it’s polite to listen to/for the answer. Raven brought this home to me on our morning walk shortly after this journal entry and its ending question: What does Nature say? Raven was raucous, louder than usual and flying about in the treetops and near the ground seeming to want to be heard, not seen.
I noticed. And I didn’t take my observing deeper or connect it to the question I’d posed less than an hour before. Rather rude to ask and not listen. Later, when I finally made the connection, Raven seemed to be sounding a ‘caw’ to heed Nature, to listen with all my senses. Duh! Ask and it is given. But you must be aware and willing to receive. Sometimes it takes a brassy Raven’s ‘caw’ to open me up.
The following afternoon after a lovely walk with Zadie Byrd (who has her own ways of getting my attention and teaching), I headed into the woods out back to walk the labyrinth and commune with the pines. As I approached the labyrinth, a handsome four-point buck was in the outermost circuit grazing seeds fallen from the bird feeder above. I stopped. He looked up and after a few moments looking may way, turned his eyes and his muzzle to the ground, apparently finding the seed more interesting and nourishing than me.
After a few more moments I slowly eased closer, step by step, present to his gentleness and grace. Aware that he was aware of my presence, yet not threatened. After a bit he began walking slowly toward me through the inner circuits of the labyrinth. My gaze focused on him, his on me; each of us seeming to say, ‘thank you for sharing … we are safe here.’ I let him know that I am listening, and I sense he was conveying a reminder of the importance of increasing my capacity to adapt. Deer thrive in part because of their capacity to adapt to changing conditions. And gentleness is a part of their way.
As if to confirm (or perhaps to see if I was continuing to listen) and to remind me that adapting and change require rest, he returned yesterday with a friend. Just before heading out for a walk, my eyes were drawn to the woods where two bucks were resting, heads up and observant, about 15 yards apart.
This winter the variety of birds in the woods and at my feeder is abundant, each carrying their messages in response to my query.
I’m listening. What does Nature say?
Resting with Awareness in the Woods Out Back