It has finally begun to feel like spring where I live, even though it was snowing this morning when I arose. The trees are not leafing yet, but the maples are budding, and animal life is conspicuous. In the past week, I have seen or heard the Barred Owl, Short-eared Owl, Cooper’s Hawk, Broad-winged Hawk, Osprey, Pileated Woodpecker, and the drumming wing feathers of the courting Ruffed Grouse.
One particularly welcome sight was a Little Brown Bat that
sailed by my left shoulder on a dirt road near the village. I haven’t seen spring
daytime bats in years. When the Little Brown Bat emerges from hibernation, she
hunts during the day for insects which are inactive at night in cool weather. I
used to see groups of bats flittering in the midday sun in early spring, but that
changed years ago. White-nose Syndrome was first discovered in upstate New York
in 2007 and has since spread throughout North America. A few species are
predicted to become extinct, though the Little Brown Bat has a chance since her
numbers were so high and her colonies so widespread to begin with.
Photo: US Fish & Wildlife Service
I hoped that this was a sign that the disease has run its
course and the Little Brown Bat is recovering, but my Internet search only
revealed that White-nose is spreading to places far from the original sighting,
like southern Texas. Still, I might be one of the first to notice signs of
recovery, if that is occurring. “One swallow does not a summer make,” and one
bat is not a colony, but I am hopeful.
I
decided I would do a vision quest. I would go out on my own, build a fire, and
instead of sleeping I would stay up all night and have visions.
I
chose the dark moon for my journey. I walked a few miles along a deserted
beach, with cliffs along the edge that had small caves and alcoves. When I
reached a sheltered place I pulled firewood out of my backpack, gathered
kindling along the beach, built a small fire, and in the approaching twilight
commenced scrying into the flames. I didn’t have any visions.
I sat
there a long time, getting up only to add more fuel. It began spitting rain and
I became chilled even with the fire. I felt silly, shivering all by myself in a
deserted place with a car less
than
five miles away and a warm bed within a few hours’ drive. “This is boring,” I
said to myself. I gathered my belongings and scattered the fire. As I stamped
out the last embers, I had a vision.
A fat
Chinese Buddha appeared, so rotund that I could not discern the outline of his
body within my psychic frame of reference. I intuitively understood that he
appeared to me thus to
show
that he was bigger than I could envision. The limits of his influence were
beyond the scope of my understanding.
The
Buddha raised his hand in a gesture of protection and the apparition dissolved.
I commenced my journey home.
As I
trekked northward, the cliffs at my right and the ocean to my left, I
discovered it was not raining at all; the fine droplets were from an unusually
rough tide. How had I blotted out the sound of that surf? I realized that I was
now in danger of being cut off from dry land; cliffs to one side of me with
water butting up against them. Though it was very dark, I put my flashlight in my
backpack because I needed both hands to scramble over the slippery rocks. I
felt angry with myself for having bumbled into such a dangerous situation.
Finally
the cliffs ended and the beach opened up. I had made it. I unloaded my backpack
and retrieved my flashlight.
I was
now only two miles from the car, two rather slow miles over sand or a short
brisk walk via a trail close by. The logical option was to take the trail, but
I felt an unexplained reluctance. It was one of those feelings that don’t make
sense at the time, but you understand later. I was sopping wet from struggling
with the surf, and I was rattled, so despite my misgivings, the trail won out.
I
practically ran along the narrow path, so I was very close before I saw her.
She was huge, the largest carnivorous beast I had confronted in the wild. She
appeared confused. She moved a few steps from the beam of my flashlight and
stood there, staring at me.
“You’re
supposed to run away,” I said helpfully. The conventional wisdom was that
cougars would not attack humans unless cornered, though they might possibly eat
children. Many well- publicized deaths from unprovoked mountain lions have occurred
since, but this was the prevailing belief at the time. I was not reassured by
this while standing face-to-face with my cougar, however, because I am not a
large woman. I thought to myself, “I hope this cougar understands that I’m a
grown-up and not a child.”
“Listen,
you’re blocking the path,” I reasoned. “Turn and follow this other path, or run
back the way you came. I have to go in this direction because my car is there.”
The
mountain lion took a few steps forward, slightly left of my shoulder.
“Okay,
I give you the path,” I said quickly. “I’ll go another way.” I took a small
step backward and shone my flashlight directly in the animal’s eyes. I took
another slow step backward, and another, and another. I began shining the
flashlight away, then back in her eyes, then away, then back, rationalizing
this would interfere with her ability to focus. She remained still.
As I
finally turned away, I let out the loudest, most terrifying scream I could
muster, just to give her second thoughts about following me. “Take that, you
big scream machine,” I thought.
My
relationship with wilderness changed that night. After my third cougar
encounter I still went out by myself, sometimes after dark, but I interacted
with my environment in a different way. Hearing an unfamiliar sound I would
investigate not only out of curiosity, but also out of concern for safety. I
remained vigilant; I became cautious. Magical protection was no longer an
abstract concept. Once there was a girl who roamed the wilderness alone at
night, aware that there were mountain lions in the woods and completely
unafraid. I am no longer that girl.
Crocodile amulet with sun disk under snout, inscribed to Amen-Ra. Photo: Walters Art Museum
Crocodiles have a reputation for being smart. A significant facet of their intelligence is their ability to learn through observation. Crocodiles take a keen interest in the habits of wildlife along the river and plan their predation strategy accordingly. They seem to anticipate daily schedules and migration patterns. Sometimes they hunt cooperatively, using combined strength to drown a large animal or pull it apart. They may form two separate groups and herd fish into an ambush. They remain still and hidden for long periods of time, then move with lightning speed when it’s time to strike. They are long-lived animals, which might be another reason crocodile goddess Neith is considered the oldest deity.
Wealthy Egyptians liked to keep crocodiles as pets. A household
crocodile was a pampered creature, given a courtyard pond for lounging and
freedom to explore the house. Having the croc around brought the family
fertility, wealth, protection and general good luck.
The temple crocodile was treated as the living representation of the crocodile god, usually but not always Neith’s son Sobek. As with any deity, the crocodile god lived in lush surroundings, entertained by temple musicians, and wore bracelets and body piercings of the most exquisite workmanship. When a divine crocodile died, he would be mummified like any great leader and given a funeral. Pet crocodiles were also mummified, according to the family’s means. During the last millennium BCE, some temples kept a stock of crocodiles to be sold as sacrifices to Sobek, and these crocodiles were also mummified, occasionally with their babies, although not with the same precision as a divine crocodile or a pet croc. From this temple stock, a new living deity would be chosen and given the same name as the crocodile now making his journey to eternal life.
There are many questions about this process that the Egyptians left unanswered. Questions like, how do you tell the difference between a divine crocodile and an ordinary one? Outside culinary donations, how do you know when a live crocodile approves of your offering, since they appear to have only one facial expression? And, most importantly, who takes a job as a crocodile body piercer?
Western traditions
regard the owl with ambivalence. She is a repository of wisdom, but a
harbinger of death or other unwelcome news. Not only Shakespeare, but
Spenser and Chaucer describe the owl as presager of doom, making the verdict
of the English literary giants unanimous. Yet the owl only goes visiting
if the messages are unclaimed. When the situation becomes dicey enough for
her to hunt down the recipient, can she be blamed if the news is dire?
Distinctive in tone,
varied in repertoire, hidden under cover of night, owl talk strikes the
listener as steeped in significance. In talking to their own kind, owls
can be establishing territory, courting, migrating, defending themselves
or calling for mother. But of course we know they are mostly talking to
us. Not only do owls carry messages, they carry secrets. Spells from
archaic Roman and English sources use the owl to pry secrets from a sleeping
victim. The owl is an emblem, by admission or reputation, of various
secret societies, including the Masons, the Bohemian Grove and the
Illuminati. On the corner of the one dollar bill there is a minute figure
that could be an owl, which people who subscribe to conspiracy
theories attribute to an occult fraternity among the Founding Fathers.
The owl’s most conspicuous feature is her large eyes, which give the impression of seeing everything. Most birds, including other birds of prey, obtain a field of vision approaching 360 degrees by having eyes located on either side of the head. The owl’s forward facing eyes give her excellent depth perception— important for seeing in low light—and make her appear more human. Her flexible neck allows her to turn her face to the rear. She needs large eyes and wide head movements because her eyes are fixed and cannot move, hence the staring that unnerves some people. Her immovable eyes seem supremely confident and all-knowing. Since the owl sees so clearly into the night, she is credited with the comprehension of death, evil, uncomfortable truths, disquieting outcomes and everything else we place in the rubric of “shadow.”
In the March 1 issues of PaganPages, Susan Rossi writes:
” I was delighted to discover that Divining with Animal Guides is not a cookbook dictionary, concretizing the “meanings” of animal encounters. Author Hearth Moon Rising has created a manual for learning to observe and discern and ultimately, to shift our strictly human viewpoint. Only when we look at the context in which the animals offer us their messages are we able to fully understand their invitations and gifts. “
In Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival, a tale from the Arthurian canon, a sorceress named Cundrie plays a pivotal role in the plot. She first appears to chide Parzival (Percival) for failing in his task to attain the Grail. She is described as a maiden no knight would ride for: hideously ugly. She has the ears of a bear, the fingernails of a lion, the hands of a monkey, incisors like boar tusks, and a nose like a dog. She is apparently a young woman, however, because her hair, coarse like a pig’s bristles, is black.
Wolfram tells us that Cundrie’s beastly qualities were given to her as punishment for Adam’s sins, yet she is not debased in her dress and education. Despite her homely appearance, she is richly dressed in the finest silks. She is a learned woman, fluent in many languages, including Arabic. In the Middle Ages, Arabs had a reputation as exceptional scholars, especially in astronomy and mathematics, subjects we are told Cundrie has mastered. Despite her aristocratic bearing, Cundrie arrives on a mule, not a horse.
Cundrie represents wisdom in her encounter with Parzival, upbraiding him for not asking an important question. She later dispenses a healing potion. Though her animal qualities are characterized as sinful, pre-Christian Celtic-Germanic beliefs held the boar, bear, lion, and hound as particularly sacred. (The monkey doesn’t seem to fit, though.)
Cundrie is a puzzle. She seems like she may be a shape shifting animal goddess demoted to an ugly maiden cursed by God to appeal to Christian sensibilities. She retains her function as guardian of knowledge.
During the December-January US government shutdown, over fifty female Northern Elephant Seals decided to turn Drakes Beach at Point Reyes National Seashore into a nursery. With most National Park employees on furlough, the seals settled in with no hassles and at this point cannot be chased off.
While I often saw Sea Lions when I lived in California, I did not become acquainted with Elephant Seals, though I hiked at Point Reyes regularly. There are numerous nursing colonies on isolated beaches from Oregon to the Baja region in Mexico. Elephant Seal populations are unknown since they live in poorly accessible regions even while breeding.
Photo: Frank Schulenburg
True to their name, these mamas are huge, weighing over a thousand pounds. Males are much larger. They roar like an elephant and have a funny nose. When not breeding, Elephant Seals live in eastern Pacific waters as far north as the Aleutian Islands. They eat fish, sharks, and squid.
Colonies will take off again around April, after pups have weaned and mothers have mated. They tend to return to the same breeding grounds year after year, so it is unclear whether Drakes Beach will be ever be open year-round again. The Park Service has established a viewing area for the public on weekends so as not to disturb the seals or place humans in danger.
The message the Elephant Seals have brought through their Occupy Point Reyes escapade is that despite stunts over government “shutdowns” that Congress and now our President have pulled, Mother Nature is in charge of this land. We can go on strike if we want, but she keeps going about her business.
The Chinese Year of the Pig began this week. The pig in Chinese astrology is a calm, prosperous, gentle animal, generous and focused. Here are some brief horoscopes for Year of the Pig.
A roundup of world folktales about pigs can be found here.
A four-part article I wrote several years ago about the sow in Western mythology is here.
I read once that you’re not supposed to clean the house for the first three days of the Chinese New Year, so as not to clean out the good luck. It seemed like good advice, and I started applying it to the Gregorian new year as well. What a boon to have days when you not only don’t clean, you don’t feel like you should be cleaning. I decided that the no-cleaning days should apply to Halloween (the Celtic new year) and Yule (the Heathen new year). Then I started celebrating Diwali and Rosh Hashana, by not cleaning of course. Now if I don’t feel like cleaning, I can say “It’s New Year’s somewhere.”
The journey of magician and apprentice to the cave is a ruse for presenting bare-bones accounts of Egyptian wizardry. To my knowledge the spells used by Thoth magicians to enliven their pieces of wax have not been written down and translated, though I have no doubt that even today there are people claiming to have the authentic Egyptian incantation, for a price.
One would think that the last thing on Sendjehuti’s mind as his sandals crunched over the desert floor was attack by crocodile. He was far from any body of water and he was headed west, away from the river. Still, crocodiles were in his thoughts. He was not afraid of any beast, but he had to be sensitive to the fears of others.
At the top of the hill he waited for the child, who was scrambling to keep up with him. Further back, her panting nurse paused and forced air into her stout body. “Are you certain you are prepared to proceed with this, Sherit?” he asked, giving her a final opportunity to turn around. The girl had been named for him, but they called her Sherit.
“Of course I am prepared!” the girl replied, indignant. “I have been repeating those words in my mind for days. I have memorized my lesson. How could you think I would be thoughtless about something you have told me to do?”
“No, I did not think you would be disobedient,” he soothed. “But perhaps you are frightened. What we are doing today is extraordinary. Many adults would decline this opportunity without hesitation, and you still wear a child’s hairstyle. There is no dishonor in retreating.”
“I am not frightened,” replied Sherit, now more incredulous than angry. “I am with you.”
“You must think of me, as well as yourself. What if you lose your nerve and this becomes a disaster? People will say it was my fault for leading you into this. They will say I am a poor father and do not deserve any children.”
The child laughed. “If anyone finds the nerve to criticize you, they had better watch out. You will send a pair of leopards to tear off their heads. You will point their severed heads toward their bodies and make their mouths tell their hearts how foolish they are.”
Sendjehuti snorted as he walked on. Yet he knew the nurse Khenty-Nebet, breathing heavily behind them, had an opinion of his capabilities not much less fantastic than his daughter’s.
“After today, people will call me Sobek-Sherit, instead of Sherit,” the child continued.
“You will never get a husband with that name,” he teased.
She appeared to consider this. “It will be a secret name, and you and Seti will call me that.”
Wer-Seti was Sendjehuti’s nephew and the reason for this expedition. A very bright boy with more persuasiveness than diligence, Wer-Seti had instigated a campaign to get pulled from his school so he could be tutored by his famous uncle. Finding the boy filled with more abstract curiosity than true commitment, Sendjehuti had brought his daughter into the lessons to spur Wer-Seti into making an effort. Now Sendjehuti suspected his nephew of pretending to be slow in order to prolong the agreeable companionship of his cousin.
“Hurry up Nebet!” Sherit squealed behind him. “We’re going to be late for the crocodiles.” Khenty-Nebet groaned.
Eventually they reached the mouth of the small cave. He was surprised to see a lamp burning, although no one appeared to be around. He had brought materials for starting a fire, but this would make things easier. Sendjehuti reached in the pouch around his waist for a vial of olive oil and a flax wick, which he placed in a second vessel.
“Do they leave these pretty lamps here for anyone to steal?” asked Sherit.
Sendjehuti chuckled. Several magicians in his coterie used this cave. Outsiders who knew about this place would sooner raid the Pharaoh’s tomb than dare to trespass here. He lit the second lamp and examined the outer room, which fortunately was free of debris.
Khenty-Nebet had arrived and her breathing had returned to normal. “I will wait here while the two of you go inside,” she said.
Sendjehuti said nothing for several seconds. “If that is your choice,” he replied coldly. He would make sure to tell his wife of the nurse’s dereliction of duty. The girl was safe with him, but still.
Khenty-Nebet appeared to deliberate over whether she was more frightened of the crocodiles or of him. “I will stay here while you are inside,” she repeated.
“Wait with Khenty-Nebet,” he told Sherit, then made a more thorough inspection of the cave. In the second room a large animal scurried away in a furry blur. He had no idea what it was, and it escaped into a crevice too tight for him to squeeze through. He returned to the outer room and motioned for Sherit to follow him.
At the second entrance she hesitated. “Father, what if I don’t say the words right?”
He looked back at her. “You know the words. You told me earlier, remember?”
“Yes, but what if I don’t say them right? What if the crocodile says, ‘You are only a small girl; I don’t have to listen to you’?”
“Come in here and sit down,” he said. The room was small, dominated by a pool of water the diameter of a large snake. Writing covered the walls and the girl examined the dedications with interest, even through her fear. She could read almost as well as Wer-Seti. This lesson had been planned for the boy’s benefit, but he had begged off this morning with a stomachache.
“Nefert-Satendjehuti,” he addressed her, using her real name. “You are growing up and growing older, and before long you will be grown. You will untie that braid and wear your hair like a woman and you will have a woman’s duties. Eventually you will die. You will make that terrifying journey that no one escapes. At the gate to the world below the Great Ibis will be standing, and he will ask you to justify your bid for a second life.
“If you are allowed to pass there will be dangerous animals for you to confront: snakes, demon wildcats, and crocodiles. There is a snake down there so huge he has swallowed a donkey. There is a big-headed cat with putrid flesh dripping from her teeth and breath that will make your eyes water. There are menacing crocodiles, eight of them, surrounding you from every direction. They will flap their tails and try to capsize your boat, so they can tear your body in pieces.
“And what will you say? Will you say the words to make them slink away or will you say, ‘I am just a small girl’? Will you command them to leave you alone or will you say, ‘I don’t know how to say the words’? The crocodiles will laugh at you. They will yell, ‘Where is your braid, little girl?’ They will yell, ‘Let us say the words.’ They will take your arms, your legs, your head, and your heart far underwater to dissolve into oblivion. Is that what you are waiting for? Is that what is going to happen to you?”
A chastened Nefert-Satendjehuti put her fingers on her eyes. “No, I will not let that happen to me.”
Sendjehuti took a piece of dyed wax from his pouch and massaged it in his palm to make it pliable. He gave the beast he was molding a long fat tail and pronounced spines, not neglecting the teeth and claws. The eyes he made larger than a typical crocodile, but they rested on top of the head in a realistic fashion. He turned toward the pool and in the old language pronounced loudly:
Out of the waters of Nun, hear your name Bulging Blinker Out of the waters of Nun, turn your head to my voice Out of the waters of Nun, roll your body and recognize yourself Out of the waters of Nun, come to this place now You must obey me, because I created you You must obey me, because I bestowed your name You must obey me, because I call you now
He plunked the figure into the water. As the droplets splashed upward they erupted into an enormous creature, far larger than the pool. He had not anticipated making the crocodile this huge. The child emitted a high-pitched scream. The crocodile raised his head, opened his mouth, and let loose a long bellowing roar. As the sound died away, he heard the thin, wavering voice of Nefert-Satendjehuti:
Back in the waters of Nun, Bulging Blinker Back in the waters of Nun, you cannot molest me
As she spoke her voice gained volume.
Back in the waters of Nun, return to your abyss Back in the waters of Nun, I command you to go Back to the waters of Nun, I thrust a spear to your head Back to the waters of Nun, retreat from my attack You must obey me, because I am the one who commands you You must obey me, because that is the way of Maat You must obey me, because Thoth has written it so
The crocodile sighed and disappeared. There was a soft plop like a drop of water. Nefert-Satendjehuti put her arms around her father tight.
He held her a long while. The girl had performed surprisingly well; he had been sure when he saw the crocodile’s size that he would have to take over.
Eventually they heard a muffled sound outside the cave. Khenty-Nebet. “Go and tell her you’re all right,” he whispered.
The child scampered off and he followed, more slowly. At the exit from the inner chamber he raised his lamp to make sure he hadn’t left anything. From behind the dark crevice two eyes shone back at him.
Outside the nurse looked as though she had tussled with a crocodile herself. “Oh how great is the protection of the Two Ladies,” she wailed. “I thought that child had been eaten alive.”
“Nebet, I was fine the whole time,” Sherit protested.
Sendjehuti did not speak but began trekking quickly back to the village, leaving the two scrambling to catch up with him. He heard Sherit tell her nurse, “Nebet when we come here next time you will have to go inside. There is beautiful writing all over the walls.” He sighed with resignation. The girl had gotten a taste of power, and there was no possibility that the lessons were going to stop now, even if he succeeded in sending that lazy Wer-Seti back to school. He felt like he had been tricked into making his daughter his apprentice. He wondered if his nephew had masterminded the whole scenario, then wondered if he was giving the boy too much credit for guile.
He stopped and gave his daughter time to catch up. “Sherit, I think you know that you recited your spell today in an exemplary manner. Your speech was flawless. You did well.”
The girl responded with a grin. “I was not certain of that until you said so.”
He teased her gently. “I think you should make your mouth tell your heart how foolish you were, when you hesitated before the cave.”
She was silent for several seconds, then decided to acknowledge his point. “My heart, you must always remember that you have the ability to overcome the evil crocodiles. They can never harm you now.”
I have another article at Return to Mago about cat and lion goddesses in Ancient Egypt.
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