Monday, November 28, 2011

Life in the garden

The dragonflies have all disappeared from the garden by now. And so have the fairies. As you may well know, fairies like to fly with the dragonflies since they look so much alike and won't be discovered by people who don't believe in them… but no dragonflies have been in sight lately; not since the first winds began to blow cold air; anointing the garden with white frost-like icing sugar… but there have been definite signs that they’ve been here… A month or so ago I spied some very mysterious dragonfly fluttering around in the most curious and marvelous of patterns. Were they really dragonflies? I wonder...

On that very same day the fairies left me a branch of pussy willow. I was delighted. Then a few weeks ago they brought a very mysterious looking cat with them. A very special fairy whispered his name in my ear the other night: “Watcher”—she said… “Watcher is his name because he watches out in the garden keeping you safe.”

Now, how sweet is that? I truly love the name, I do! Thank YOU! I also want to thank those of you who also suggested all sorts of awesome names for the kitty.

The garden looks so changed these days. From vivid greens it turned to colors of golds and reds to muted yellows and grays… seasons certainly have its way of making all sorts of changes in the anatomy of things; and it feels as if I’m walking upon another time and another garden; still lovely in its own right and stillness, but somewhat strange and faraway from my heart.

Yesterday I discovered a curious thing in the garden; left by the fairies I suppose… So they've been here after all. Do you have any idea what that might mean? A teacup hanging from a tree branch? A tea party with the fairies, perhaps? That sounds delightful, doesn't it.

I’m going to close my eyes and ask the fairies in my garden for something truly special… an owl!

Owls fascinate me. Have I already told you that? And have I told you how I often dream of seeing one up close in real life some day? Yeah—“in real life”, because in dreams I see them all the time… And every day and every night I would close my eyes and make a wish upon a dream—that there will be an owl waiting for me out there; in the garden.

Of course, it would have to be in my garden for the magic to transpire. Any other place would lessen enchantment. It would not be the same. So I go out to the garden every day at dusk and hope and wait for “La Lechuza” to make presence… As the wind come rustling through the lasts of russet leaves I listen to the tree’s songs; and listen to what amber leaves sweeping down from trees bring and to that what they have to tell me. And thus, slowly, magic unfolds…

I am sure I can hear the mystical hoo-hooing of the owl being carried out by evening breezes. And there… over there, I can even detect a shape flap onto a branch in the nearly dark at the end of the garden. A bird with human-like, forward facing eyes and presence so fascinating I’m almost drawn to my knees.

I often wonder where these feelings arise from being that the owl was the anathema of my childhood—the phantom that marred the peace of my nights. Folks in our little pueblo believed the owl was an ill-omened bird; they were not really owls, but some evil spirits contained in the form of an owl. Owls were the souls of the dead crossing the night sky; witches prowling the night carrying children off. How strange the way fear is conquered as we grow in soul and years. And how the owl now invites me to peer into the dark as they can and they give me courage to accept and come to love all that I find there...

I can’t really tell what it exactly is—awe, amazement, pure enchantment perhaps?… whatever it is, the owl represent so much… their peaceful energy, the mystery they posses; posing as quiet mediators between the material and spiritual worlds; hiding some inexplicable message known only to themselves and perhaps to the shadows that nurture them.

To be truthful, I believe my admiration for these birds comes from fear more than anything else. Fear attracts; it pulls you to face it; to conquer it whilst waiting and hoping. And maybe that’s what it all is? Even so, I’m still waiting and dreaming of the day I’d see this magnificent bird sweeping off the floors of the garden in a mythical and mysterious swooping of wigs. I cannot think of anything more special or magical.

Do you have any tale of your own you'd like to share? Any strange, funny or curious occurrences in your own enchanted gardens or world? Do share.

Wishing you a magical week, whether shimmering with stardust or just your glowing selves!