Angels’ Wings – ND # 75

Angels’ Wings Etched In The Sky – Photo: L. Weikel

Angels’ Wings

Today was an exquisite winter day. Bright sunlight reflected off the choppy, muddy waves of the Lenape Sipu as it flowed toward the freedom of the Atlantic, while wisps of clouds that reminded me of angels’ wings inscribed the azure sky above with a fine-tipped nib.

The weird thing is, I’m not one to see angelic forms all that often. Most of you probably know me well enough to appreciate I’m more of a person who sees animals in the clouds than anything else. Angels, not so much.

I could kick myself now because I flirted with stopping in the middle of the road when I first spotted the wispy figures, but thought better of it. While the road I was on was deserted in that moment, there was nowhere for me to pull off safely. It didn’t feel like a wise move to try to get a good shot of those angels’ wings. I would’ve had to get out of the car to get a clear photo of them without telephone poles or wires marring the image.

Shared Perfection

My delight in walking along the bank of my beloved Delaware River was heightened by the fact that I was in the company of dear friends not seen in person in a very long time.

The funny thing was, as we walked and talked and caught up on each others’ lives, even more wispy hints of angelic forms appeared above our heads. Already regretting my choice not to stop and take a couple photos of the sky earlier, I did manage to snag one photo as we walked.

I didn’t want to take my phone out of my pocket – even to take photos. I just wanted us to be together without any electronic devices distracting or disturbing us. As a result, I only have the single photo, above, to share with you tonight.

Must Be Something to It

But I have to say, for all my resistance, there must have been something ‘angelic’ going on. Not only did I see them on my way to meet my friends, but also, as the photo above attests, they continued showing up in the sky above as we walked.

The final moment causing me to surrender and say, “OK, angels are definitely present and watching over us today,” came when we entered a rock and gem shop at the conclusion of our visit. One of my friends took me to see a type of stone that was persistently calling her name. And there they were again – angels’ wings. The crystalline structure was precisely reminiscent of angels’ wings; and yet I hesitated to state the obvious. (Because, again, angels aren’t usually my ‘thing.’)

But there it was, even written in the description of the stone itself.  Seraphinite. Seraphim.

Exquisite.

It seems only right to accept that our visit was smiled upon and watched over by the angelic realm. I call upon that realm every single time I open Sacred Space. Why wouldn’t they generously bless a reunion of friends?

(T+75)

Balmy Then Frigid – ND #59

Tohickon overtopping her banks – Photo: L. Weikel

Balmy Then Frigid

Short one this evening. I have a vague headache and I wonder if it’s related to the indecisive nature of the temperature outside over the past few days. First balmy, then frigid; pouring rain, massive puddles, swollen creeks and rivers. Tonight, utter clarity revealing the cosmos causes another plunge of temps.

I don’t think I’ve heard one car drive past our house tonight. People must be heeding the entreaties to stay home. It’s refreshing. People are always out tooling around when it’s snowing. But maybe everyone just decided that it’s Friday and, what the heck, they might as well just hunker down where they are.

Nothing’s worse than driving and suddenly realizing you’re on a sheet of ice. As soon as you feel that vague but unmistakable sense that there’s suddenly no traction between your vehicle’s tires and the surface of the road, a pit of terror strikes. It’s sort of like the plunge your stomach takes when you breach the top of a roller coaster.

It’s the sudden and unmistakable sense that, in that moment, you have no control over anything.

Swollen Tohickon – Photo: L. Weikel

Swollen Tohickon

I made a pit stop to my beloved Tohickon Creek earlier this afternoon. I haven’t had a chance to sit beside her and just have a conversation with her in a few months. Yes, I visited – briefly – when I walked there a few weeks ago. But the sun was setting and there was a lot of snow and ice around and nowhere for me to just sit and ‘be.’

Communing with the creek wasn’t in the cards today, either. My usual spot was inaccessible. The Tohickon was overflowing her banks and her waters quite literally would’ve poured into my car had I even attempted to park there.

The mighty Lenape Sipu (Delaware River) was equally as swollen with muddy, opaque water coursing downstream. Chunks of logs and spiky broken tree limbs bobbed and swirled in the eddies caused by rocks and other obstacles hidden from view.

But even more troubling, knowing the temperatures were soon to plummet, were the sheets of water streaming across most of the roadways. So much water with nowhere to go.

Nights like tonight are the stuff of comforters and candlelight and gratitude for a warm home and a good book.

(T+59)

Green Again – Day 977

Tributary to a Tributary to Tinicum Creek – Photo: L. Weikel

Green Again

My post last night was ‘hot,’ I know. It’s upsetting to contemplate just how out of balance Earth’s climate is at the moment and how much worse it may become in a very short period of time. As a result, I’m proffering this collection of thoughts and photos to counter the images of a burning planet from last night’s post and to bookend it with the cooler, if not also troubling, content of the post from the night before last. In short, I’m back to green again.

My walk the other day along a secluded and seldom-traveled road that meanders along the haphazard twists and turns of a creek bed was deeply restorative. It’s hard not to feel the juiciness of life being replenished when surrounded by so many shades of emerald, lime, and forest green.

The burble of water tumbling over a rocky streambed comforts me and brings a deep sigh of peace to my soul. I probably don’t need to tell you, those of you who’ve stuck with me on this 1111 Devotion journey, the number of times I’ve been consoled by the creeks that surround my home (but especially, of course, my beloved Tohickon). I doubt if I can ever express my gratitude for ‘life’ leading us to this particular place to raise our sons and cultivate our marriage.

Rocks and Moss – Photo: L. Weikel

A Pause

I’m tempted to take this post in a direction I wasn’t intending when I began writing this evening. That would be the direction of railing against fracking and the intrusion of pipelines near and through the land I love so much both here where I live and also in Northampton County and across the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River) in Hunterdon County, New Jersey.

The devastation to our natural habitats by companies feeding the climate change that’s resulting in unprecedented flooding, wildfires, and drought is supported by the highest court in the land. That’s hard to accept.

Those very same forces are demanding that we return to the Jim Crow era of our country’s history.

But perhaps I should just go back to taking a pause from it all. Let’s take a moment instead to revel in the simple, abundant beauty of the many shades of green in our world.

Mosses close-up – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-135)

A Single Photograph – Day 860

Delaware River (Lenape Sipu) – Photo: L. Weikel

Due to a confluence of circumstances and opportunities, Karl and I had to forego a walk today. Since neither a walk-around nor a walkabout was had, as a result, I’m relegated to a single photograph upon which to build a post. It’s an unenviable foundation, but workable. We’re going to make this happen.

One bright spot: I pulled to the side of the road early this evening to attempt to capture the precious abundance of water filling the banks of our beloved Delaware River (aka Lenape Sipu in the language of those who lived here first, the Lenape). Not only was the river running full, wide, and fast, at the moment I took this photo, the rays of the setting sun were still managing to illuminate the tops of the trees lining the river on the New Jersey side.

It was a lovely moment and if I’d been more patient, I might have been graced with a sighting of epic proportions. (Only because I tend to be lucky – as you all know.) But patience and my occasional sense that “I have all the time in the world” (which enables me to linger those extra moments or minutes that sometimes make all the difference) were not fully activated this afternoon.

Nevertheless, I did what I could.

Raptors Keep Showing Up

Although I wasn’t in a position to memorialize my sightings, we encountered at least four hawks again today as we drove a short distance from our home. The abundance of snow cover this winter probably caused a lot of rodents to snuggle up and linger in their homes longer than usual. And while they may be a little lean after a long, snowy winter, I bet the hawks don’t care if they taste a little crunchy.

Funny how hunger can make slim pickin’s for meals taste utterly delectable. Something tells me the raptors are not being culinary snobs at this stage of the game. They’re on the hunt; fertilizing eggs and ensuring the survival of their species is hungry business.

One Thing I Noticed

The skies are supposed to remain clear tomorrow and into tomorrow night. For the past two nights, I’ve had a chance to be standing outside in the dark. The moon will be in the western sky and looking like a perfect ‘half moon,’ which is actually the moon in ‘square’ to the sun. That means that it’s halfway between conjunct – or in the same spot – as the sun (when it’s a new moon) and opposite the sun (when it’s a full moon).

So if you go outside tomorrow night and look for the moon, you’ll be rewarded with a midnight blue sky, brilliant stars, a half moon (exactly at 10:40 p.m.), and a twinkling, surprisingly bright red Mars very close (to the right and just below) the moon.

The last few evenings were exquisite. Try not to miss the beauty just outside your door.

Happy Equinox!

(T-251)

What a Moon – Day 839

Magical Moon – 27 Feb 2021 – Photo: L. Weikel

What a Moon

Mmm mmm mmm. I’m so glad we made ourselves walk tonight! We’d missed our chance to walk during the bright, enticing, and totally unexpected sunshine. And by the time the opportunity to walk arose, we were more inclined to hunker down with some stuffed shells, a big salad, and the tv clicker. But no. We pushed ourselves. And oh baby, what a moon awaited.

Quite honestly, sometimes 90% of the effort it takes to take a walk some days is mustering the effort to get our stuff on (including Spart’s coat and harness) and walk out the door. Getting out the door. Who knew that would be our biggest accomplishment some days?

It’s true though. Even living in a drafty old house that’s not hermetically sealed off from the elements, we can still easily find ourselves totally out of touch with the true state of the elements. For instance, after dragging my heels over readying myself for a lap around the ‘walk about,’ I was exhilarated when I stepped onto the porch and took a deep breath of refreshingly cool – but not frigid – air.

Full Virgo Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Anticipation

I’ll admit part of the impetus that got me out the door was the anticipation of seeing the full Virgo moon rise above the fields along our route. And she did not disappoint.

As we started out on our evening sojourn, all we could see was a bright glow in the eastern sky. A quarter of a mile into our journey, though… Bam! There she was.

And I must confess: I’m going to have to do some research to see if there’s a trick to help me sneak up on the moon when she rises so huge and pregnant with promise, for it seems no matter what I do or how I try, I can never replicate her magnificence. She either looks too bright and big (thus resembling the sun, which not only dishonors her tremendous reflective gifts but also conceals her lovely craters and landscape in flashy distraction) or she appears entirely too teeny tiny on the horizon. I cannot seem to find the perfect balance that does her justice.

Full Virgo Moon Rising – Photo: L. Weikel

 The Quest Continues

I know the temperatures today were mild and significant melting occurred. For one thing, the veritable mountain of sunflower seed shells underneath each of our feeders make it look like we were carpet bombed by bags of Agway seed.

But for all the melting going on elsewhere, the fields seem to be immune to the swarthy glances of the sun. In fact, the unmistakable sheen of a crisp coating of ice glistened on all the fields we passed. The moon’s countenance, of course, was the designated shimmer.

Moonbeams on Ice Field – Photo: L. Weikel

Silence Reigned

Once I exhausted my efforts to capture the magic of the moon tonight, I settled into the simple pleasure of just being, and walking, with Karl. After about a mile, we noticed how the only sound we heard was the rushing flow of the Tohickon far below the rocky cliffs along our route. No owls hooting. Not even the rustle of a single creature in the brush. Silence, broken only by the voice of the melting snow merging with the creek as it tumbles and whooshes toward its merger with the Lenape Sipu – the Delaware River.

Lovely.

(T-272)

Invitations – Day 741

Portal with Laughing Guardian – Photo: L. Weikel

Invitations

Probably because of my shamanic perspective on life, I tend to notice things that look, to me, like portals into other realms. I know I’ve written about these doorways in other blog posts, some that I’ve noticed appearing in fog or mist and some manifesting in clouds. But the other day, when the weather warmed up again and I was invited to take a walk along the Lenape Sipu (Delaware River), I felt like I was bombarded by invitations.

Invitations? Yes. Whenever I see a portal my natural inclination is to note it and wonder what I might discover if I journeyed through it. What might I find on the other side?

It’s not that I take journey through every opening I see. Absolutely not! In fact, I rarely journey through unfamiliar portals, even though I notice them whenever I see them and acknowledge them as opportunities to travel into another dimension of reality.

I guess I simply acknowledge them as remarkable potentials.

Waterfall Portal – Photo: L. Weikel

Tried and True

Most of my journeying is done for the benefit of other people – my clients. It’s been my experience that I have specific entry points into other realms that I use for my clients, and different ones I use for journeying on my own. I rarely think about it, because it’s second nature. They’re different doors to different places, just like we take different roads to distinct destinations.

So I guess it’s curious that I’m always on high alert for portals. Nevertheless, I saw a bunch the other day. Maybe I’m being called to journey to a place I’ve yet to visit?

Tree Portal for Tall People – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-370)