Tag: BEAUTY
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. 
Bats, Fly Fishing & Initiation

Bats, Fly Fishing & Initiation

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Three weeks ago…

I walked to the trail on the paved road. After a short hike on the trail, I cut through a section of woods to reach the creek. I was headed for a particular bend in the creek that was deep and very fishy. Water levels were low so the bottom was slick; however, that particular creek bottom is always slick as snot, so I carefully crossed and walked along the bank to the spot. 

Storms and floods had changed it significantly from the last time I was there, so casting was challenging through several downed trees. But within a few minutes, I had a very nice rainbow dancing with me. Usually I’m wading; however, because there was a steep drop-off in the water, I was standing on the rocky shore. 

I was stripping line and walking to a better place to bend down and release the fish without bringing it out of the water. Easy, with nothing out of the ordinary except the strange, black blob flattened right where I had been kneeling. 

Upon closer examination, the blob became a bat. At first, I thought it was dead; but with even more careful observation and a gentle nudge with my wading staff, the bat hissed and I was  the one disturbed. I had been kneeling there. Like…right there.

Knowing that bats are the most common carrier of rabies, with 3% being infected, and seeing that it was close to mid-day and the bat was not sleeping, I knew better than to touch the bat. But it was at the edge of the creek so perhaps it fell out of the overhanging tree or missed a swoop to get water during the night. Bats cannot take off from the ground. Maybe it was thirsty. So I got a thick stick and wet it and dripped water on the bat’s face. It drank so I then allowed it to crawl on the stick and airlifted it to the tree. It crawled off the make-shift airplane and huddled on the tree.

I thought about the weird encounter, how strange it was, for the hours I spent wading upstream. Later than afternoon, when I removed my pants (no, I wasn’t wearing waders…I was wet wading) I saw a red mark on my knee. Ugh.

I fretted throughout the weekend, wondering what to do. Did it bite me? Did I even kneel on it? Monday my doctor referred me to the health department who referred me to animal control. The lady at animal control was blunt, “You do not have a choice. You must get the preventative treatment.” I won’t go into the actual experience of the series of shots but I certainly am glad they are over and I’m now protected from further encounters with potentially rabid creatures.

But seriously….what in the world?

Having studied shamanism for many years, I realize that encounters such as this are powerful and the animals are significant teachers. The bat is symbolic for letting go of the old and bringing in the new, of transition and initiation and a new beginning. The bat is a symbol of promise in the chaotic energy of change. Ted Andrews writes in Animal Speak, “The bat reflects the piercing of new barriers and the opening to higher wisdom. It symbolizes a new truth being awakened.” He writes further to say that it implies strength and stamina to handle issues that might arise as you open to new consciousness. “Its message contains the promise of new horizons and unexpected views about to manifest…the bat is powerful medicine. It can be trying, but it always indicates initiation—a new beginning that brings promise and power after the changes.”

In the three weeks since that encounter, the way has opened for Wading Women, a holistic fly fishing program, to be birthed…many months ahead of what I intended. In fact, this week was so chaotic, in a good way, to birthing this program that my head has literally been spinning. Everything came together seemingly suddenly, even though I’ve been steadily working on it for over a year. 

I’ll write more on Wading Women soon to share the mission, the intention, and the specifics. But for now, I’m just sitting on my front porch, watching the mountains across the valley, thankful for little…and big….miracles that are happening to launch a program of empowerment for women. And thankful for encounters with many beings, both animal and human, that change the trajectory of my life.

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To learn more about Wading Women, visit WadingWomen.com. 
Fierce

Fierce

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After an intense weekend of a NOLS Wilderness First Aid class and four days of insane, chilly winds, I finally found myself hiking and wading late this afternoon. When the wind is so high, it makes it dangerous to be out hiking…and today proved that point as several trees were across the creek in places where I often wade. Plus, the pollen was thick and swirling. I was so ready to be outside, standing in clear water, casting a fly rod.

I’d been wading, hiking, and casting a couple hours with great success and decided to hike upstream a bit further. I was about to pass an area, but felt an intense, magnetic pull to it. I turned around, hiking down a bit, and entered the creek to wade my way back upstream.

Some places just look fishy. This place was primo-fishy with deeper, slower water and a big log for cover. A trout could rest under that log and just wait for the yummy nymphs to flow right into its mouth. 

I’d caught and released several rainbows and was enjoying the beauty of the place so deeply that I momentarily zoned out. I cast to the head of the pool and as the flies drifted past the log, a nice-sized rainbow trout took the nymph and a fine dance ensued. As I gently brought the fish to the water at my left boot, I carefully took the hook as the fish remained in the water. It wouldn’t settle so I wet my left hand and carefully grasped the strong body and used my right hand to remove the barbless hook. In those brief moments of contact, I could feel the strength and fierceness of the trout. That untamed wild energy was powerful to feel. Hours later, I still feel it.

It is my hope that I can cultivate that kind of energy within myself and use that fierceness to walk my path with strength and courage. There are fish that make me smile…and then there are those that are fierce. Those are the ones that inspire me.
Counting Days, Not Fish

Counting Days, Not Fish

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Today was a special anniversary. Another year has passed since I started fly fishing. I spent 67 days fishing during this time period and each one filled me with profound beauty. Each day deepened my friendship with the creeks, rivers, rocks, trees, trout…and insects. 

The beautiful insects trout feed on have captured my heart. Their life stories are incredible with some staying in a nymph stage underwater over a year before emerging into their final form. A few days as a graceful, winged creature and then they mate and die. Such profound symbolism. 

I had a lovely mayfly hang out on my sweater for a while as I waded upstream today. Yellow sallies were everywhere, their tiny yellow bodies fluttering like fairies. There were so many insects hatching I had to keep my mouth closed, which was difficult as I kept laughing out loud at the multitudes of flying beauties. Many times my dry fly was floating alongside just-hatched mayflies as they dried their wings before launching into flight.

My heaven. Every part of the ecosystem in harmony with each other. Bliss-in-action. And while it’s fun catching and releasing trout, it’s the place they live in that keeps me coming back. Water. Wild, wonderful, clear, cold water.

Today I hiked and waded nearly 5 miles. Two very fat and sassy fish danced with me—a rainbow and a brown trout. The brown surprised and delighted me as this particular creek is typically a rainbow and brook trout stream…or  maybe the browns just don’t show themselves that much for me.

What a thrill to invest my days in such beautiful places. With an open heart, I say THANK YOU! I don’t care how many fish I catch, but I do care how many days I get to spend in this magical place observing the seasons and cycles of Nature as an active part of it.
Meet My Friend

Meet My Friend

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As I wandered and waded today, I felt a bit off from my usual happy-water-vibe. I couldn’t settle into myself. Couldn’t cast worth anything. I was about to jump on my own case when I heard, like a trickling whisper, The wind is really strong today. It’s okay. It’s very gusty. Just relax and have fun.

So I relaxed and let go of trying to cast perfectly, took off the dropper (nymph fly) and started just playing with a dry fly in the wind. I worked on casting for about an hour. The wind gusted and stopped, gusted and stopped, and I casted and cursed…but only in fun. 

I was in a large (for this creek) area so I could actually do a full back cast. I chose different rocks to target and worked on accuracy in the crazy gusts. I didn’t worry about spooking trout because I was just playing around and practicing and had already cast all over the deeper pool and thought I’d scared any trout into hiding. 

Even with my casting and quickly stripping line in, a trout started rising in all of that madness and eventually took the dry fly, which totally surprised me after that much chaos in its watery realm. You never know when it comes to trout. (That totally blows every bit of advice on being stealthy while casting).

But it’s not the trout I want to introduce to you, kind reader. Today I want to introduce you to one of my best friends.

It is birthed at 3400 feet above sea level, where Chasm Prong and Gulf Prong come together, miles away from its terminal point at Oconaluftee River. Washout Branch and Bearwallow Branch are two of many small waterways that come together to create my friend, each adding their own unique energy to the ever-growing flow as it moves down, down, down.

When I was feeling out of sorts today, I stopped and looked at the wildflowers blooming, the bright green reflections of new tree leaves in its surface, and the moss-covered rocks around the banks and felt so grateful for the friendship we’ve shared over the past few years. 

Sometimes my friend is wild and too crazy to wade in, but days like today, my friend caresses my legs with its 58 degree temperature and makes me feel included, surrounded, part of itself. I can feel discombobulated with crazy monkey-mind shenanigans happening in my head, and my friend calms me, soothes me and points out birdsong nearby…or reminds me that the wind is rather gusty.

The creek has many friends that hang out…trout, bears, birds, wildflowers, snakes, mayflies, trees, moss, rocks…when we all get together it’s a real party.

It’s my sincere hope that all humans can find friends in Nature and visit regularly to have celebrations, dances, and prayer meetings.