Category: EcoSpirituality
Cycles

Cycles

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Laughter erupted spontaneously as the stars witnessed my sudden understanding. Photographing the night sky, whether through a camera and tripod or a telescope, is a master course in patience. You cannot force the stars to move any faster, if you are wanting to capture their movement to create a star trails image. You can’t stop clouds from moving in to obscure the galaxy the telescope is imaging. The moon won’t slow its rising to give another 10 minutes of dark sky. The sun won’t go down any faster to help you start the imaging session sooner. The laughter emerged when I realized I was having to embody the cycles and timing of Nature…to S L O W down and be present. A nearly constant message coming from every direction these days.

For months I’ve been ‘listening’ to trees. Or feeling trees. However a human might interpret that idea. To me, it’s listening to them. Why do humans go so fast? That’s the question I hear when I’m hiking among the old ones on the high trails. My answers have varied. Snow’s moving in, gotta make it to my car before the road closes. Wind’s picking up, don’t wanna be hit by a falling branch. It’s raining. I’m hungry. The list grows. 

But when I take the time to sit on the moss-covered, fallen tree, I meld into the forest. I slow down. I remember cycles. I remember to breathe. 

M 81 or Bode’s Galaxy

The stars teach me this, too. Inhale………..exhale. Pause. Inhale………exhale. Pause. Let go. Remember. 

Total Eclipse of the Moon

I am the cycles of Nature. I am the stars, the moon, the galaxies. They are me. We are part of a whole. Separation no longer exists. Peace comes….and then? The clouds creep in. And it’s okay. 
Peace of the Forest

Peace of the Forest

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We began walking in the gray, pre-dawn light. The air was chilly, but not cold. The sound of the creek tumbling over boulders and smaller rocks provided our hiking music. I was excited to share this magical trail with a dear friend, visiting from the coast of Alabama.

The day before, we hiked in freezing temperatures up the Bypass Trail at Kuwohi and then on to Andrews Bald. We shared deep soul conversation as we enjoyed the fir and spruce forest. This day, we were silent as we began the ascent. That silence opened a doorway for complete peace to be birthed.

In the weeks leading up to the very polarized election, we were experiencing stress, anxiety, and all the other feelings that occur when democracy is at stake. The forest embraced us in its silence and soothed our ragged emotions.

At one point, we stopped and just breathed with the trees. It’s a powerful practice to do solo; however, having a soul-sister join in the mindfulness practice made it magical. Imagine if more of us practiced breathing together…add the trees and we’d light up the world.

Now, two days after the election, I give space for my sadness and deep grief. I think back to the stillness we found on the trail last Sunday. I know I’ll return there this weekend to walk to the top of the mountain, through the enchanted trees, seeking peace and stillness they offer. But today, I’m there in my mind, breathing with trees that remind me that in this moment, I am okay—our country is okay. One breath at a time, we’ll find our way.
Dreaming with Elk

Dreaming with Elk

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It happened again. I awoke in the wee hours of the morning dreaming of elk bedded down all around my home and then, late this afternoon, I came upon a large gathering of elk as they begin to come together for their annual autumnal rut festival. According to a national park volunteer I spoke with, today was the first day of their gathering. And they told me in my dream.

A few years ago, not long after I moved back to the Smokies, I awoke and in a half-waking/half-sleeping state, I felt hot breath on my face. None of my four-legged companions was the source of the hot breath. I felt an elk standing over me, breathing in my face. Later that morning, I came upon a massive bull elk standing on the side of the road, as if he was waiting for me.

It has happened more than these two examples, but these were the most intense. 

I’m not sure how consciousness works, but I do believe we have helpers that show up in all manner of forms. The elk and I definitely are in sync. And I am deeply grateful.

Today I saw a cow and her calf in the river and they reminded me of Wading Women, my holistic fly fishing guide service name. They became the newest members of the team…wading women, indeed! 

No matter what species were are labeled, we all go to water for nurturing, healing, for life-giving fluids. Several elk were cooling off in the chilly, mountain water as it was in the low 90’s here in the Smokies. I’m in total agreement with them…let’s wade!

I’m grateful for the visitations, for the shared dreamtime experiences with elk. For their strength, power, and stamina—majestic rulers of the forest. Thank you!

Please note: none of these images were taken in close proximity to the elk. They were either taken with a telephoto lens, from a safe distance behind a big tree, or actually from within my car and the elk were alongside the road. The national park asks visitors to stay over 50 yards away (150 feet). Anything that disturbs elk or causes them to move, is against park rules and can result in fines and arrest. I have accidentally come upon them on a trail before and it’s a very strange feeling to realize you are completely surrounded by elk without even seeing them when you were hiking. This time of year, as we approach the ‘rut festival,’ we must be extra cautious as the bulls can be very dangerous when they are fighting for their gals. Please don’t harass any wildlife in the park. Let them remain undisturbed. Please.
When Rocks Sing

When Rocks Sing

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The large bolder in the middle of the clear, rushing water was the perfect place to sit as I tied on new tippet and a new fly. As I focused on tying the knots, attention given completely to the task, I felt vibrations coming from the rock through my body. Must be the rock transmitting the water’s movement, I thought.

On I waded until I found a much bigger rock to sit on for my snack of dark chocolate and almonds. As I chewed the nuts and sweet treat, I felt the same thing. I’d never felt vibrations from a rock before…not like that. And yes, the water was moving but, still. 

So I sat and felt the rock trembling and wondered if it was my body shaking…but no, it was definitely coming from outside of me. 

What must it take for something as solid and heavy as a rock to reverberate with the energy of water? I’ve been at large waterfalls and felt the earth shake from large volumes of water. I’ve stood on cliffs over 700 tall on the west coast of Ireland and felt the ground shake far back from the edge as waves crashed into shore. So yes, it’s possible for earth to transmit vibrations of moving water. I had just never felt it on the rocks in the creek.

It’s rather amazing, really. Something as hard and heavy and big as a large bolder can convey the language of water through vibrations. And, I’m guessing I could have put my ear to the rock and heard the music of the interplay between rock and water through the rock’s interpretation of those vacillations of sound waves…of energy.

In my meditation before sleep tonight, I closed my eyes and listened to my body. It felt energized and alive, in perfect balance. That usually happens after four or five hours of wading and casting, but tonight I noticed something different. It was as if my body still held the vibration of the rock…the music of the rock…and continued to emit joy from that profound song. 

While I truly love dancing with trout and the relationship I have with them as they swim to flies I tied and refuse or try them or swat them or ignore them, it’s experiences like I had today–when rocks sing to me and I am still enough to feel the music–that nurture my life, my self.