Decked Out in Yellow Jackets

PINKY

Long before I ever had any personal interaction with crows,

I loved them.

 

There was a movie I loved as a young child. It was about a crow named Pinky. Pinky was curious and a bit mischievous and got itself into some pink paint, hence the name Pinky. I loved that movie and I loved that bird. And who knew that this introduction to a loveable crow would serve me and prepare me for what would soon transpire. :)

 

My father had become ill and was hospitalized. From the hospital window by his bed, he watched a nest of crows. He noticed the mother was no longer returning. In his desire to see the crows survive, he had my uncle remove the nest and baby crows from the tree and bring them to our house.

 

Our neighbor offered to help us with the young crows. On the back of his garage he had built a large shelter for the birds, that kept them dry and safe from predators. Between our two families we began the schedule of trading off times to feed the little birds. I remember being taught how to feed them. I would put creamed corn on my fingers and gently stick them down the birds’ throats. I always looked forward to my turn to feed the baby crows.

 

It was a great bonding time, feeding the birds. They taught me so much. As they got a little bigger and stronger, I was able to handle them. That filled my heart with great delight. And with my daily interaction with these beautiful birds, I bonded especially close with one in particular, that I had so fondly named Pinky. :)

 

Pinky and I spent a lot of time together, it perched on my shoulder as I walked around. I talked to Pinky a lot. I shared my food with Pinky. I recalled the stories I was told on how crows could mimic human words, and because of that great care should always be given in their presence, as they were listeners and communicators who could fly off and reveal secrets. That never bothered me. I told Pinky everything. I took great comfort in knowing Pinky understood me.

 

The crows matured and were magnificent birds. But their size evoked fear from the neighbors. They did not like these birds hanging around so closely. We lived in a neighborhood where our houses were close together. They began throwing rocks at the birds, trying to scare them off.  Even as young as I was, and as much as it broke my heart, I knew it was best to begin discouraging my friends from hanging around, so they would not become hurt … or even worse, killed. It took awhile and painful effort, but there came a time when the crows no longer returned. My friend, Pinky, was gone forever. I cried a lot. I was happy Pinky and the others were out of harm’s way, but I missed them terribly. I had learned so much from them.

 

Pinky may have been gone from my life, but not from my heart. In my heart, my friend continued to live on. To this day, when I hear a crow calling, my heart smiles as it remembers. I delight in their candor, and the amazing intelligence of these birds. If you are ever accepted or rejected by a crow, rest assured it is personal. They identify faces. They see people as individuals, not merely just 2-leggeds. They watch and they know. They are known as the keeper of mysteries. I also know of the many stories where these birds are associated with unpleasant and negative things. I have spent considerable time with them, and have yet to see it. Rather, these birds have taught me how to laugh, though I was hurting. They taught me to pay close attention to things and to remember. They taught me the joy of playful curiosity. They taught my spirit to fly.  They gave me courage when I had none. They taught me the importance of using my voice in a powerful way to speak up for things that others may not quite understand. They have taught me the importance of wise council. They have taught me the secrets to survival. They have taught me well.

 

It was a great joy to spend some time with the crows yesterday. With nature and wildlife abounding all about me, I was teased for choosing to sit with the crows. And even then, I did not have my heart full, as I sat and remembered Pinky and the wonderful gifts these beautiful birds have given me.

 

Crows will always be special to me. Of all the encounters I have had with critters growing up (and that is a lengthy list), it is Pinky and the other crows, who have left the greatest impact on me. Their little bird tracks of wisdom are forever on my heart.  Pinky had powerful medicine, for a young girl who knew a lot of pain.

I will always love you, Pinky. ♥

SINGER OF MANY SONGS

I love listening to the robin sing.

It is the singer of many songs.

 It's songs teach us about new life and new beginnings.

 I listen, as robin sings into my heart.

It reminds me how Creator has given each of us many songs to sing.

He has given us breath to sing forth songs of beauty.

 

I was taught that our songs come from the earth,

who received these songs

when Creator breathed them into the Earth Mother.

Those that are sensitive to her,

connected to her in a sacred way,

will hear these songs ...

they will be filled with these songs

and be the singers that sing into existence the secrets of the earth.

Songs are beautiful.

We have our life songs we continue to build upon.

We have the traditional and ceremonial songs

of our own people which bind us together

and keep our cultures alive and vibrant.

 

We have our soul songs which sing  forth who we are,

searching songs that guide us,

and our healing songs, of prayer and powerful medicine.

Songs are alive.

They have a creation force.

The more they are sung,

the deeper into the spirit they nest,

enabling us to keep our visions and dreams,

so that we may sing them into existence.

 

Our songs keep us connected ...

to the earth and to each other.

They keep us focused.

They remind us of who we are

and keep us hopeful and balanced.

Whatever we are in need of,

Creator has given us breath to sing into existence

the encouragment we need to continue on life's journey ...

strengthened and comforted, with renewed hope and courage,

and faith to walk on ... singing as we go.

 

LADY ILLUSION

Things are not always as they appear. 
 

Like dried and decaying leaves, life has its moments. Times when the heart hibernates in its own pain, drawing into itself, unaware that within the dismal decay of circumstance, beauty and life still abound. Beneath the surface of winter sleep, where the heart has grown cold from the bitterness of life, there is kept a joy unnoticed, awaiting its moment to show itself, to emerge again into the warmth of a new season … where the delightful colors of hope and joy take wing.

Ladybug-Lady Illusion, releases a foul smelling blood from its legs, as it pretends to be dead when threatened. When the time of trial has ended, it uncurls its legs and busily carries on with the things in life that concern it.The smell and sight of death, only an illusion. So often when the trials of life cover as a shroud, we become consumed by our own feelings.

The ladybug encourages me, in that no matter how bleak life’s circumstances can be at times, my feelings are merely illusional, as beneath it all, there always awaits new joy and life, hidden until their proper time. To know they are there is a comfort. To remember they exist when life shows me otherwise, is a gift.

I see the ladybug and my heart smiles because it knows.

ABLE LIKE THE ANT

I enjoy watching colonies of ants.

I take great joy in observing their willingness

to work together for the good of all. 

They busy themselves with whatever task is at hand,

be it searching for a food source,

or carrying food,

digging tunnels

and caring for the young;

even defending their home and food sources if need be.

Though I am sure there is an order to some degree amongst them, in general, they do not seem to be selective in the tasks they choose, but rather busy themselves with whatever task is at hand, whatever the need may be.

They are amazing little teachers with powerful medicine and strength. We, as people, can learn a lot from the ants. They are beautiful examples of cooperation and working together. They teach us about the importance of community, and caring for one another. They encourage us to pursue diligence and patience.

Ants are wonderful little architects who by example, invite us to learn the sacred art of building, be it building strong and loyal relationships or beginning the construction necessary to make our dreams a reality. I think and wonder to myself, what a difference this world would be, if more of us followed the ant's example.

SPIDER SPEAK

 

In native thought, the spider represents the creative pattern of life. It is a symbol of beauty and the catcher of bad dreams.

The sight or even the thought of a spider is enough to make some shiver and shake. Spooky shadows making them look much larger than they are and creepy stories aid to amplify the dislike many have for these creatures.

 

But I wonder … why do so many not see these creatures that Creator made as beautiful, as a wonder to behold?

Whatever happened to make some people view them differently?  

I think of how very impressionable we are when we are young. The information we are fed and the reactions of other people around us mold and shape our view of things.

 

A little spider propaganda about what an awful blood-sucking creature it is and a few people jumping around screaming is enough to begin the process of molding such a negative view.

 

I write this because it has me thinking how this also relates to our views and perceptions of different people groups and cultures. I believe Creator gave each people and their culture a distinct beauty. I also believe He gave each creature He created a "culture" and distinct beauty of their own.

 

And yet, our minds can easily be influenced by stereotypes and negative stories; by other’s careless words and reactions, and we soon learn to fear and dislike anyone or anything whose ways are different than ours.

 

Creator makes no mistakes and made all things good. And yet sadly, we somehow manage to continually find ways to distort and destroy the very beauty He has created, missing out on the blessing He intended to gift us with through them.

 

 

 

JEWEL OF THE MORNING

Like the jewel of the morning,

she opens to greet the sun.

An illuminated spirit,

absorbing and radiating warmth ...

Casting her beauty upon the water ...

She shelters and nurtures

and is a soft resting place

to all who inhabit her,

and are blessed to look upon her beauty.

The radiance of her petals may be fleeting,

but the touch of love and life she leaves is not.

She rests by night and rises early

to kiss the day and offer her beauty

to those around her ...

Until it is time for her to bow her head

and drop her seeds into the depths of life’s waters, 

where a part of her will  live again ...

Blooming forth , as jewels of the morning ...

 

TEARDROPS LIKE RAINDROPS

I love all kinds of weather for different reasons. The way the light glistens through the raindrops fascinates me. They remind me of so many things and it is not unusual to see me laying on the wet ground to view the silent world of raindrops during or just after a rain. It is a world of glistening beauty. And it is actually rainy days when those within earshot can actually hear this timid turtle singing, the rhythm of the rain as my drum. I love to watch the rain, but I think it is the time just after a good rain that I love the best, especially if rains have been absent for awhile. I love seeing all the critters emerging to happily drink and play in the puddles. The plants are refreshed and so vibrant. The air is fragrant and I love the musky scent of the earth. It really fills my senses completely. There is a cleansing that takes place, upon the sacred earth and within my own spirit. The raindrops remind me of soft kisses and gentle tears ... each with a purpose and designed to nurture us in beautiful ways.

TEARS OF COMPASSION

Our tears of compassion touching and uniting with the tears of another.

TEARS OF BROKENNESS

We all have felt crushed, broken and bruised at some point and time. What struck  me about this picture is the soft, whole leaf underneath the tear ready to fall. Though we feel broken at times, through our own tears of pain we often fail to see Creator at work, fully present in our brokenness ... a true friend and comforter to the broken hearted.

TEARS OF THE STORM-TOSSED

Seeking refuge when we find ourselves caught in the storms of life.

CLEANSING TEARS

This was so beautiful to see and reminded me of tears of sweet release.

MOURNFUL MEMORIES

This reminds me of the fresh tears shed upon remembering a sorrowful event of the past, represented by the blurring of the drops beneath it.

TEARS IN A BOTTLE

This just makes me think of Creator collecting our tears. No tear is ever wasted or overlooked. Each is lovingly collected and held by our Creator and used to bring forth something beautiful in its own time. 

TEARS OF JOY

The hug, the embrace ... the touch of happiness. These tears are like kisses that touch us gently in the depth of our very being.

FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN

Looks dark and foreboding on the inside, having to pass through what only "appears" to be a mouth of sharp teeth to get there. But much of our fear is illusion ... the uncertainty of what awaits us on the other side.

TEARS OF TENDERNESS

These droplets balanced themselves in a fragile way and remained there, reminding me of love. No matter how strong our love appears to be, it is still a very fragile thing and needs to be cared for and nurtured in a gentle way. 

TEARS OF THANKFULNESS

Each drop reminded me of the many blessings our Creator lovingly gives us each day. If we truly counted them, we would find we have more than we can even hold, as these very blessings often overflow to those around us.

TEARS OF LAUGHTER

The healing laughter of the playful heart

and in my case, the over-imaginative mind!! LOL!!!!