Laying on the Ground

I’m doing a fun challenge for March in which you do four positive things a day that you often put aside or don’t make time for. It is called the Tortoise Challenge and is hosted by some very sweet and supportive folks. Their vlog…

One of mine today is to lay on the ground…simple, easy and something that brings great peace to my soul. There is a spot out in the woods that cradles me and I can lay there and just be happy. but I forget to do it or I want to and don’t because I’m busy doing something else. So, today I went out there and just lay on the ground, listening to the woodpecker fuss at me and running my hands over the pine needles and oak leaves.

As I walking back in to start my work day I noticed how lovely the plum trees are in bloom. How the crows and the woodpecker seemed to be talking to each other over the treetops and how the moon was so big in the grey morning sky. So, of course I had to get my camera.

Journal: Vulture

Vulture came to me first through a beautiful young Black Vulture that I had found injured on the road. My daughter named her Blackberry but as I was driving home with her in the back of the van, the name Michael came to me. Vulture loved me in my dreams as a brash young god with dark hair, gangly and awkward but determined and courageous. His people roosted on the ground so that they could care for the orphans of other species. As I walked to him, I saw small vulture families cuddling up for the night with dogs, rabbits…anyone who needed their help.
Vulture has helped me greatly in letting go of pain that I have been hanging onto. In February a great mob of vultures gathered out here…hundreds and hundreds beyond counting. They flew in great spirals above the house, swooping silent and dark with wings tipped golden from the setting sun. We watched them open mouthed as they flew right over the top of the house, so close we could see the details of their wings and their heads facing downwards. Some flew so high they were barely specks in the sky. I will forever be grateful to Vulture and forever in awe of this mighty event that I witnessed in that magical time between the sun’s setting and the moon’s rising.

We gather from the four corners of the land and our wings catch the glow from the setting sun. Together we spiral into the high winds, peak and descend as another round of our people takes up the dance…for ages we have done this. We are timeless.

Crows and vultures

I saw these crows flying over head in Murrayville when my friend took us there. They caught my attention but when I looked further up in the sky, I saw white flashes way way up there. They were huge vultures swirling and whirling and playing in the currents. Spiraling, like my sister had seen a few weeks earlier. Their wings would catch the sunlight and blaze white as they banked. I was too entranced to get a photo of them. Wouldn’t have turned out anyway since they were so high up.

Fiddlin’ John Carson’s grave at the Historic Sylvester Cemetery

One of the delights of being among the living is visiting and honoring the dead at a peaceful cemetery on a gorgeous fall day. This November first I drove up to Historic Sylvester Cemetery to visit Fiddlin’ John Carson’s grave. While his grave was a bit garrish (who would expect any less though?), the rest of the cemetery was a dance of light among the trees and the cool fall air. The cemetery is surrounded by tall old hardwoods, interspersed with young magnolias. Moss grows on the old headstones. It is a place to close your eyes and listen, feel the sun on your face. Let peace into your heart.