Leaves finally came out this week, in literally two days.
Water, water everywhere
May 22, 2020
This is Deer Brook Falls, a hike I’ve wanted to go on for weeks, and the trail was finally clear and passable. Photo doesn’t do it justice.
I notice that productivity at New Moon seems slow for me. It’s a time when blockages are cleared, hence it feels like things are stationary. This week I had a major water leak in my kitchen, which has been a distraction. Good thing I’m taking a break from writing.
I think it’s a good thing, working with New Moon energy, to be persistent. This can be a rewarding energy if you have the patience.
A new moon teaches gradualness
and deliberation and how one gives birth
to oneself slowly. Patience with small details
makes perfect a large work, like the universe.
~Rumi
Another post at Return to Mago
May 15, 2020No exploration of life on wimmin’s land would be complete without a discussion of the mice. Coincidentally, after submitting this article a mouse appeared at my workplace. I caught it and released it outside. It will probably be back.
View from Blueberry
May 8, 2020
I’m taking a break from writing for awhile. Last week, I finished the draft of yet another novel, submitted another article to an E-zine, and wrote a post on Beltane for this blog. I wonder sometimes why I never get anything done, and I forget that it’s because I’m writing. I have a feeling I would understand my productivity better if I got paid for it.
Wednesday I hiked Blueberry Mountain in Keene, one of the toughest two-and-a-half miles I am acquainted with. About 2,000 foot elevation gain, some of it scary steep. A lot is over bare rock, and there’s one part where I always chicken out and skirt through the brush. I should have taken a picture of that section.
There was a bit of snow and ice uptop and, as you can see from the photos, trees are still bare along the upper slopes, though they are starting to bud in the Valley. Stream crossings on this trail are usually easy, but one was dicey with all the snow melt. I was wearing good boots, so I didn’t get my feet wet, literally, though metaphorically this was a good trail to start the hiking season.
Some Musings on Beltane
May 1, 2020What you lose at Samhain always comes back to you; what you lose at Beltane is gone forever.
I heard this Wiccan proverb in the 80s, and the Witch who shared it with me explained that what people traditionally “lost” at Beltane was their virginity. Innocence is something that cannot be regained, and something many people mourn. Christians frame the passing of innocence as the “fall from grace,” and view it as the fruit of disobedience.
Another way of looking at the bliss of innocence is that it is not a condition the Goddess values. In fact, she seems to actively disapprove of it, continually sending us experiences that disillusion us, as the wheel turns inexorably onward. The only thing we can do is cherish the lessons, and contemplate how they can serve us on our path.
What have you lost recently? Today I lost respect for someone, for seeing the world in black-and-white terms and abusing others in the process. I muted her on Twitter. A small action, perhaps, but this time of year small actions, small shifts, can change the trajectory. I have left not just a person, whose words were background noise I never considered much, but a situation. Because Beltane is a time for contemplation, I will recognize this situation in the future and extricate myself.
I apologize if I am being oblique. My point is that illusions are constantly being lifted, and there are times when the shift in perspective is particularly momentous. The shift can seem minimal when it occurs. Or it can feel calamitous: an illusion stolen; a dream shattered. Regardless of how it feels at the time, the change is deep.
Another tradition at Beltane is to jump over the fire declaring that you will do something or have something soon. This is different from the vows of Imbolc that require sweat, perseverance, and divine guidance. (I will stop smoking; I will finish my master’s thesis.) This declaration is something you know you can do, but just haven’t done, like taking off your shoes and walking barefoot on soft grass. What could you easily do, that would feel good, but you just haven’t done? I muted somebody on Twitter, whom I didn’t know at all except by their sour, disagreeable commentary. Beltane is a time of liberation.
Inexorable Spring
April 24, 2020Open water everywhere now! I’ve been hearing Canada Geese from my apartment for weeks. With the reduced traffic from COVID-19 lockdowns, I wonder if even people in the cities can hear them. When I lived in Arizona, they flew so high during migration that they looked like swarms of gnats.
Tired of looking at cats on the Internet? Here’s a duck.
There’s actually a female Mallard nearby in this photo, but she’s impossible to see with her camouflage coloring. Though males are more colorful, females are more vocal.
The Mallard is the most common wild duck, ancestor of the domestic white, found throughout the Northern Hemisphere with slight variations in coloring. This male has a lot of white on its body and a reddish belly and might be confused with a Merganser, also common in this area. The female confirms the identification.
“Like a duck to water,” goes the saying. I took this sighting as a message of being in one’s own element, feeling natural, effortless, and in control.
Coming Home to Nest
April 17, 2020On an electric pole along the Ausable River, between the villages of Jay and Ausable Forks, I saw a pair of nesting ospreys on Wednesday. They’ve picked this particular site before, and the region experienced a half-day planned electricity outage last year as crews tore down the nest after the chicks were grown. Looked on the map and noticed a pond in a housing development, which may be stocked, flows into the river near this site.
This video, which is amazing, is not the electric pole in question. These birds eat a LOT of fish. They can pull bigger fish than shown here out of the lakes in the Adirondacks.
I’ve been trying to learn to differentiate Osprey, Pileated Woodpecker, Northern Flicker, and Northern Goshawk calls. Sounds doable when comparing recordings, but in the field it’s a bit more challenging.
Crocodilian Rhapsody
April 10, 2020
As you cozy into your COVID cocoon, snug as a bug in a rug, now’s the time to think about crocodiles. They can’t get you now – you’re inside!
In Ancient Egypt that might not have helped, because crocodiles were kept as pets. They wore jewelry and had special piercings to display their jewelry. Crocodile Body Piercer: there’s a high risk occupation. I wonder if it was considered “essential business” during a fever epidemic. You can bet the Egyptians didn’t close the houses of worship for a little plague. They would be earnestly supplicating the divine temple crocodile Petsuchos – a living, breathing god incarnate – for relief.
River crocodiles are wily hunters who have been observed hunting in tandem. Sometimes they cower with brush on their snouts hoping to lure birds seeking nesting materials. They have good memories and monitor the routines of prey animals. Crocodiles clamp their victims in powerful jaws and hold them underwater until they drown. (Crocs themselves can stay underwater several hours.) Then they dismember the bodies by thrashing in the water until the pieces are small enough to swallow.
Crocodiles lay their eggs on land near water and cover them with grass, mud, or sand to protect from the heat. Then the mother crocodiles rest close by to guard the nest. When the babies are ready to hatch, they mew inside their eggs. As they emerge, the mother carries them in her snout to the water. She will protect them from predators while they are small.
Crocodilians have a lot of patience, and spend much of their lives waiting around for eggs to hatch or a meal to appear. This is a magical quality in much demand at the moment, as we wait for the pandemic to subside. More crocodile magic can be found in my book Divining with Animal Guides.
The Pivoting Point of Change
April 3, 2020I take a lot of photos this time of year, as the light accelerates the land of ice and snow into a brown and gray world. Most photos show the Adirondacks in summer or autumn or, more rarely, winter; few depict this time of year. These scenes are meaningful to me partly because this is a landscape that will not last. In fact, it will disappear quickly. There is a tremendous amount of energy building, waiting to be released. This is the point of power, the transformation of one thing into another. To me, this what magic is about.