Flicker – ND #142

Flicker, left profile – Photo: L. Weikel

Flicker

I found a feather the other day as I was walking past High Rocks State Park. I made the discovery shortly after the rain finally abated after falling all day. Gray clouds persisted overhead and the feather, sadly, was caked with mud. I noticed it anyway because fragments of bright yellow still managed to peek out from its sad, soggy condition. What was that? A flicker? A glimmer of light amidst all the dirt and damp?

I picked the feather up, of course, if only out of respect. It was in sad shape, but I figured it only needed a quick run under the faucet. Yanking a couple strands from my scalp, I offered them in exchange and appreciation for the bird’s loss.

It was risky, but I stowed the feather gently in the front pouch of my hooded sweatshirt. The feather was superficially a mess, but it felt like a messenger and I wanted to honor it.

Yet Another Encounter

Fast forward a handful of days to this afternoon. Again, I’m out walking, about a zig-zag mile away from where I found the feather. Also again, the sky is overcast, the atmosphere thick with mist and about 20 degrees cooler than the day before. This time my attention is snagged by a furtive rustling amongst the dry, dead oak leaves littering the berm of the road. There! A bird, with coloring that allowed it to blend in yet stand out. Quite a trick. (And luckily, I was on a solo trek, because I’m sure Pacha and Brutus would’ve pounced on it.)

Oh, what a beauty! It hopped amidst the twigs and detritus seemingly unafraid. It scratched and poked, attempted feigned indifference, then glanced at me to discern my intentions. While I was able to walk right up to it, if I had to guess, I’d say it was just young and inexperienced. It didn’t appear to be wounded or compromised in any way, which was a relief, and the main reason I approached it.

I spoke to it gently and took a couple photos. And I made sure to tell this winged creature how much I appreciated its intriguing coloring and design, especially the magnificent heart at the back of its head. Of all the birds for me to discover ‘in the feather’ one-on-one, here was the very same kind – a flicker – that had left me a feather only a few days earlier.

Flicker, its heart at the back of its head – Photo: L. Weikel

Walking It Off

As it happened, I was walking off the effects of a profound discovery I’d just made within myself. If I made a choice I knew I was being asked to contemplate, my soul would collapse within itself. My heart would break. Sounds hyperbolic, I know; but that’s how it felt at the time. In short, I was feeling an absolute gut-level certainty that I couldn’t – mustn’t – go back. I thought I could, but my body and soul said otherwise.

I’d actually walked about six miles by the time I came across the bird – a Flicker, of course, in case you haven’t guessed. By that time, I’d not only processed my visceral reaction to the choice presented to me, but also pivoted within myself to embrace an alternative that felt like a ray of warm sunshine. A flicker of hope? The choice couldn’t be more obvious; the message more clear.

Looking It Up

Naturally, as soon as I arrived home, I consulted my trusty Animal Speak*, by Ted Andrews. I was delighted to discover almost two full pages of information. Following are just a few tidbits that called out to me:

“Keynote: New Rhythm of Growth and Healing Love.

(…) Flickers are woodpeckers in the process of changing from life in the trees to life on the ground. Because of the tapping and drumming that all woodpeckers do in their search for food, they have connections to new rhythms coming into your life.

(…)

The flicker is a golden-winged woodpecker. It often has a red patch on the back of its head and a black crescent on its breast, all of which are very symbolic. When it flies up from the grass, it takes off in a strong, bounding flight, flashing the gold of its wings. When a flicker comes into your life, it will reflect new bounding leaps of spiritual growth.

The red on the back of its head reflects a stimulation of the chakra centers of the head – the throat, brow, and crown centers. These centers will be stimulated into new activity. The reflects that latent talents and intuition are going to be activated to a greater degree.

(…)

If flicker has come into your life, it indicates a time of rapid growth and trust. Flicker will awaken a new rhythm and the ability and opportunity to manifest all-healing love.”

Trust

And there it is. While I might personally feel like the feather I found a few days ago, muddy and a bit battered, the bright ray of hope represented by the yellow shaft of a flicker demands a certain amount of trust. Trust in myself. Trust in my unique path. And trust that when I ask for it, my allies conspire with Nature and All Life to bring me the guidance and insight I seek.

ND #142

Flicker, right profile – Photo: L. Weikel (Thank you, little one!)

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What Day Is It – Day 522

Tigger, annoyed by my question – Photo: L. Weikel

What Day Is It

I know I’m not alone. I know I’m not the only one who asks, “What day is it?” to whomever is nearest me – usually Spartacus or Tigger, but occasionally Karl – far more often than I should.

Sheila has two paws into the next world lately, so she’s definitely not a reliable source to ask. She usually just looks up at me with her rheumy eyes and says, “Seriously? Don’t ask me that. If you’re not going to open a can of food, just cover me with a blanket and let me go back to sleep.”

Fair enough. I can relate.

A New Rhythm

I’m finding it frustrating that I’ve yet to establish a new rhythm for myself.

If you had told me a month ago that the one reliable part of my day would be listening to Governor Cuomo’s daily briefing, I guarantee I would’ve scoffed. He’s not even governor of my state, for heaven’s sake.

But that’s my truth. Listening to him give us the facts, lead with logic, and support all of us (not just New Yorkers) with compassion and heart, has been a reliable centering post for me. I happen to be one of those people who believe that government can be, and is, when properly staffed and maintained, a force for good. So it’s a comfort to me to listen to him respect his constituents enough to tell them the truth– and then expect them to handle it.

As I go about trying to find my new rhythm I’m realizing that, at least lately, I’ve been having more trouble concentrating. Intellectually, I know this is probably a natural consequence of dealing with the stress of all the unknowns that have suddenly become part of our lives. But it feels a little lame.

A Bracing Slap

I don’t need to tell you guys how important walking is to my quality of life. If nothing else, my walks more often than not yield the photos around which I write many of my posts – which is reason enough to get me out the door.

Well, today’s walk was a startling experience. Just as we were heading out the door, my phone bleeped an alert that cautioned we should expect rain to begin in 20 minutes. It was tempting. Should we stay or should we go? We decided to initially ‘just do a stop sign,’ which effectively ruled out our longer four mile trek, but hey – it got us out of the house.

Imagine our surprise when it started snowing little spitballs at us as we rounded our first corner. Brrr! The entire walk ended up feeling like a bracing slap by Mother Earth – telling us to buck up and snap out of our somnambulism. At least, that’s what I felt like I was being told. I guess I shouldn’t speak for Karl.

Ultimately, I think it will serve me best to stop asking, “What day is it?” and just get on with living whatever damn day it is. If it takes a couple more days or weeks or whatever to fully acclimate to the transformation that’s taking place across the globe and within our lives, so be it. There is a balance to all of this if we just give ourselves the chance to find it.

Again, that’s where that patience and acceptance comes in. It’s not a lesson to be glibly ‘learned’ one day and forgotten the next. No. I’m pretty sure that’s part of that new rhythm I seek.

Oh – and you’re probably reading this on Friday. (wink)

“Really? Open a can of food and we’ll talk” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-589)