Tag Archives: creek

herding a heron

This morning when I let the dogs out, Bodhi started racing across the backyard. I thought it was his usual antics when the big yellow schoolbus stops for the kids across the road. Then I saw the long beak.

At first I thought it was a Canadian goose. I paused in awe when I realized it was a great blue heron! A great blue heron has graced the creek with its presence from time to time. I am always glad to take a moment and watch its smooth flight.

This morning, I saw a huge beak and long legs rising before I realized it was the heron. Yes, my shepherd Bodhi was running west across the yard trying to herd it!

Depending on which symbolism website you believe, a blue heron symbolizes balance and wisdom. I believe I am finally discovering balance—wisdom, well, I’ll leave that to my friends to decide.

how glad to have things cancelled / poem 43

Today I felt much better. Stayed home all day, didn’t get in the car once, by choice. I rested, I read, I twitter-ed. I even did a few loads of laundry but I didn’t take the garbage out.

Rained all morning but by late afternoon the sun came out. The animals and I went to the backyard. The lapsed meditator sat on the garden bench and did some lethargic OMs. Watched the goose in the creek. Listened to the sound of water leaping over stones. Sat on the deck and watched the Bodhi dog run to the wood pile, again and again, in his vain attempt to catch the chipmunk he noticed there a month ago. I made a smoothie and toasted spring.

A visit to a friend on the east side was rescheduled. Then I got a call that I won’t have to deliver meals tomorrow. The Universe was cooperating with my healing — at least this is the way it seemed.

poem

Sometimes change works
in a wellness way.
Take a deep breath and stay.

my little Ganges moment / & poem #37

Well, if you read my previous post you heard about the little bunny who almost lost its life.

It’s gone. This morning the cat brought it to my deck as a gift. Not quite dead, the shepherd finished it off. What to do with the bunny? Bury it — covering it with a big stone so it couldn’t be dug up? That seemed silly. Instead, I lit a stick of incense ceremonially in the circle of stones. Then I got the shovel.

I took bunny to the creek. I would do what the Hindus do in India. Most bodies are cremated but in certain instances the bodies are placed in the holy Ganges River to carry them along to the Source. So, with one careful heave of the shovel, I released the little rabbit to the elements. Since there had been a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, there was more water than usual — in fact, the creek seemed to be thriving. I watched as the bunny circumvented slick stones in the creek, the current carrying it away. It reminded me of the little container of marigolds I had released from the boat in Varanasi in memory of my mother’s passing. It may seem far-fetched but this, too, was a sacred moment for a life that was no more.

Poem

the creek will carry
you back to the Source
I watch from the shore

the creek compelled, Poem #19

Morning, I let the dogs out. There was a loud roar.
It sounded like rain coming down hard but turned out to be
the creek compelling my attention as it rushed over the rocks.

the creek gurgling to its source / Poem #16

It is early evening and I sit on my deck. If I were feeling social I’d go to a nearby coffeehouse and join some people and hear a concert tonight. It’s not always easy for me to know how I feel. I thought about it and listened to my intuition and my intuition told me to stay home.

So laptop heating my legs, three of my four animal companions hanging out with me, we enjoy this second sunny, beautiful day in a row. Today it really feels like spring!

Earlier I watched three mallards floating down the creek behind my house. They usually begin at the deep end by the property east of my land and when they reach the narrower stream behind my place, turn around and go back. Today, however, the ducks paused, walked a bit on some stones, then floated west. The creek continued on to its source.

Poem #16

how auspicious it is
to be a witness to
a creek moving home to its source