I found myself blessed as a child, as I have a Taurus mother. She always sent my brother and I outside to play.
From the time I was tiny, I understood there were spirits that lived in the woods outside my home.
I spent a great part of my childhood in the loving arms of trees. We had a wonderful maple that loved to be climbed and would offer me shelter among
its knobby roots. If I pressed my ear to his trunk, I could hear a dull, distant, ebbing thud. I was listening to his heartbeat. I almost never
climbed him with shoes on. Instead I could pull myself up with ease using my hands and bare feet. I would rest in his branches like a leopard..legs
hanging on either side.
In the woods, I would delight to walk barefoot on the moss and fallen leaves, although shoes were a must under the stately holly tree. I would call to
birds and they would answer. The squirrels would chatter at me as I climbed up into the boughs near them. I think now, how at that young age, I always
knew that "every rock and tree and creature had a life, had a spirit, had a name..".
In those days, cats would flock to our home as if they knew I would be there to take them in.
At the beach, I would drift in the sighing of the waves. Resting on the shore, I could always take notice of every little creature and spirit..from
the sandpiper to the sand crab, to the sideways crab, eyeing me wearily from afar. I would always call out to any creature, reassuring them I meant
them no harm.
I could stand out in the rain for hours, hypnotically watching the rivers of rain coming down off the silty roof, and splashing onto the green clovers
below. It was healing to see my bare feet under the pooling water, standing on the lush blanket of green.
Storms were always special..I would watch from inside, morbidly fascinated with the power unleashed..the stabbing lightning flashes, the drum rolls of
thunder, and the roaring wind as it whipped the trees into a frenzy.
We used to camp, and I could sit all evening amongst the bullfrogs and fireflies putting on their light show. Ever spring, just as the chilly nights
started to show a slight sign of warmth, my mother would wake us out of sleep and take us down the road to hear the first calls of the spring
At some point, I do not know when it was exactly..I began to stop feeling the spirits so much. Life got tough, and I no longer felt happy. We ended up
moving across the country a decade ago and that is when it almost stopped altogether.
I visited my old home last year and realized that I had been all but cut off from the nature spirits when we moved to California. Back in Virginia, I
choked back tears as my old friends called out to me when I walked into my old yard.
Then one day, back here in California, I was in a market, and I looked in at some Lobsters in a holding tank. One was waving his antennae at me,
almost like he was trying to make me understand. I looked down and saw the barnacles stuck to his side, with their filters up. In one awful movement,
I suddenly had an epiphany. This lobster was soon going to be steamed. The barnacles, too..and they were in this awful fate together. Then it hit me
even more..NO, WE ARE ALL in this together. Tears fell on my cheeks as I put my hand to the glass and the lobster put his banded claw to the other
side. We regarded each other the same way and I knew then we both understood one another. We are all in this together. Us real humans, the animals,
the nature spirits. For better or worse. If we could find a way to help each other, we stand a chance. If we keep allowing ourselves to be separated
into groups, well..divided we fall. I don't feel so alone now..and I can hear the spirits again.
edit on 14-4-2013 by bastet11 because: (no reason given)