Animal Speak

It's a Saturday morning in May and when I went to bed last night, very late, I told myself I would sleep in a bit. This past week, I have been going to bed much too late as just about every evening I've been binging on astrology charts and reminding myself of all the glyphs involved. When a Sagittarius dives into the next topic of interest, it is all consuming.

As it goes in life with animals, your plans are mere pipe dreams.

So it was at some time shortly before 7:00 a.m. that something woke me up and got me out of bed to look out my window. And there he was, Alibi, standing still but whipping and winding his neck around the way he does when he's got something to say.

A couple of weeks ago, just as I was heading to bed a little earlier than usual and feeling proud of that, I feel him trotting back and forth across the paddock. Then I hear his high pitched and forceful nostril snort. Something is not right out there and Alibi wants everyone to know.

I went out onto the deck, the goodles were standing back and watching Alibi for any signal telling them what to do next. I turned on all the outside lights while I hurried back in to put on jeans, grab my mag light, headlamp, gloves because you never know, sturdy shoes ready for whatever. Out with me go the dogs. In the event it's a cougar or coyote, or wandering human, I hope their barking will disrupt the intruder's thinking.

Alibi comes up to me but not taking his eyes off behind him. He's making sure I'm fully aware that he is not comfortable. With his energetic tether, he leads me to the corner of the paddock and directs me to look across the road to the treed landscape. Like any momma protecting her herd, I put a gentle hand on him recognizing his skin is tense and twitching, but just enough so he can feel that I have things under control now and he can let down a bit. He knows this.

With fresh batteries in my headlamp, I head out through the gate onto the road shining my mag light through the bushes and up into the trees, back and forth, looking for any reflective eyes looking back at me. I check back with Alibi to see where his gaze is focused and explore further.

In the end, I find nothing and I head back through the gate not knowing what caused his alarm. He came back over to me and over came the goats. The four of us stood together in the quiet night, letting go of any fear. When I could feel their tension slip away and I could hear Alibi's breath soften, I knew I could start contemplating bedtime again.

Getting back to this morning, unlike the other night, Alibi was not snorting. There was no audible sound from him but he most certainly called me. As I noted his neck wringing, with really really tired eyes I started to take in the scene. He had managed to get his hind leg caught in the electric net fencing around the pear trees.

For my convenience only, I do not have the fence energized. For the most part, they all assume it's always hot...until they don't.

Here we go again, dress up, head out. The goodles are once again standing back and side by side, not in fear this time but in concern. They understand that getting closer to him may stress him out.

Alibi knows me so well he knows I'm there to solve his every problem. He recognizes his hind leg is caught. If you know anything about an animal, you know that anything around their legs generally sets them to panic, particularly animals considered prey. Their legs are their escape. But rather than panic and try to pull out of the fence, which really would be typical of many other horses, he was standing still trusting I would hear his call.

As I approach, not speaking a word, he poops. Ha! Finally he can relax. He cooperates and lifts his hind leg for me so I can untangle the fence and kiss him with reassurance that he is safe to move. Once again, the goodles come over now that everything is clear, and the morning carries on like any other day.

The thinking goes that I might as well scoop poop, let the girls out, and put out some hay while I'm out there.

Tomorrow. Maybe I'll sleep in tomorrow.

If you want to hear what a horse snort sounds like to alert others to danger, this is a good example:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtxecUYUH8A

Alibi freezing mid-bite to key in on a deer friend across the road

12:22

A.M.  That's what time it was when I opened the deck door to bid my sweet ones good night.  We've been socked in by fog for over a week and then rain for the last two days.  The moisture is welcomed, despite the muddy mess it creates in the dry lot.

The rain sheets the horses had on last night were soaked and so heavy when I traded them out this morning for a dry one.  I debated about taking them off the horses this evening.  My three weather references on my mobile phone all said cloudy to partly cloudy for the night.  My years living in Central Oregon have taught me it's best to look out over those mountains and add my own forecast into the mix, and tonight it told me the rain was not done.  Sure enough, just after dark it started to rain again.  I could see the sky considering a clearing but with the anticipated winds, I have also learned it's best to err on the side of caution when it comes to strong gusts.

I didn't anticipate this crystal clear sky we have now.  If I weren't ready for bed, I would go down and take the rain sheets off the horses and let them bask in the stars.  The night air isn't frozen yet so it is fragrant with moist earth and trees and a touch of sweet wet wool.  It's fresh and alive.  I smile.

Yes, I do write about the stars often.  They are so magnificent and abundant it is hard not to be in complete awe.  I realize that for much of my adult life, I have lived in places where the star appearance has been minimal, drowned out by urban lights.  Only on vacations or trips out of town would I see what the night sky really could look like.  So now, every night that I can see stars, I lose track of time just gazing.  I smile.

With a wide open sky completely covered in stars, shooting stars are not uncommon.  Those were things that I would see only if I drove out to "the country" from the city, put down a blanket and waited.  And waited.  And if one happened by, it was truly incredible.  I still find it incredible but the drama is different.  I know that with patience, sometimes just a tiny bit, I will be treated to a fiery tail traveling at a speed I cannot fathom.  I smile.

So it is at this late hour, feeling blessed to have healthy animals, a roof over my head, food for all of us, wood burning in the stove, love of and for friends and family, talents to sustain me, good health and good humor that I look up into the powerful beyond and give my thanks.

And I smile.

Signs

This was my card draw this morning.

I stood at the deck door, basking in the light of the moon, looking up into the world beyond our world, giving thanks to my angels, spirit guides, masters and guru and the Archangels for a good day, a good life, lessons learned and for blessings to come.  Setting my intentions under this waxing moon energy, I felt guided to stand at the door.

Just as I asked for good health, strong constitution and heart comfort for the relief workers in the Philippines, Scout hooted and a shooting star curved like a rainbow right over my head.

I see.  I believe.  I trust.  I listen.  I feel.  I am.

Cleanse

For the past few days we've had heavy air in and out coming from the wild fires burning.  The mornings have been especially thick and fortunately as the days wore on, the air would lighten up.  The presence of an undeniable lingering cloak not be ignored.

Today we had a thunderstorm roll through; it rained a bit.  The air shifted.

Much later tonight, the earth smelled rich with moisture.  It seems to have rained again.

They talk about the skies opening up in a storm.  They certainly did--straight to the heavens!  The sky is crystal clear.

The Milky Way is streaming directly overhead.  There are those stars that are so close, they can almost be reached by a determined finger.  And behind those stars is another layer, just beyond reach.  And when setting aside all expectations of the night sky, letting the corners of the eyes be wide, that deepest layer of stars that just begins to lead far into the solar system appears.

Try to hold a finger up and find a space that wide between stars and planets.  Impossible tonight.

There are twinklers, winkers, color changers and the ever steady.

Diving into the window of mystery, the shooting stars are reminders that nothing stays the same.


Dedicated to Max.  May she always be safe.

Silly Hen

It's a bit after 11pm and the poodles and I just got back in from a late evening feed and then a 15 minute forensic search for one of my hens.

I went down late to lock them in and only counted 11.  One of my black and white Barred Rock hens, either Alice or Baby, was missing.  It's never a good feeling.

My headlamp wasn't strong enough to do a thorough search on a winter's night of the new moon.  The stars are magnificent but still not enough wattage for a hen search.  So, back to the house to get my mag light and back down to continue looking.

Oh, the temperature is about 9 degrees.  I wasn't so cold but I was concerned that if I couldn't find her that my hen was in a safe place where she alone could keep herself warm.  They have quite a suit of downy feathers these days, but at night they nuggle together on their roosting bar.  I'm not sure if it's for warmth or safety.

Going through my list of previous experiences with missing hens, I felt optimistic that she had not been snatched by a predator but for some reason did not return the hen house when everyone else did.  This is when I wish my dogs were trained to flush out a bird.  There is a lot of sage bush around and plenty of trees where she could hide.

After coming around for the second time, I started to look up.  Maybe instead of digging in to the dirt as they do during the day, she went up to roost.  Whew!  Big sigh.  There she was perched on a branch of their favorite Juniper tree.  It's so big and full with very low hanging branches and plenty of loose dirt around the bottom that there is where they spend a lot of their time.

Thankfully I could push through the branches enough to pick up my hen and bring her back home.  Red the rooster had much to say about her clucklings; perhaps a welcoming back home, perhaps a disciplinary comment.  It was a  satisfying feeling to close up that door knowing all 12 of my chickens are safe and sound and settling down for a long winter's nap.

Full Buck Moon

July is the Full Buck Moon.  It is said July is the month in which the new antlers of the bucks start to push out of their foreheads, velvety, anew.

The White-Tailed Bucks shed their antlers after rutting season, sometime in the early months of the year.  They can be without their antlers during these months because they are not fighting for territory or the affection of does.

I could be a buck. Ready to grow new antlers which emerge covered in what seems like velvet.  This "velvet" is full of blood vessels that feed the antlers the vitamins and minerals they need to grow strong and healthy.  I am a buck.

Just before walking to the barn tonight, my sister Laurie sent me a thoughtful pre-sleep text message.  In response, I told her I would catch a star and send it to her; it would light up her dreams.

The barn is east.  Walking east, I saw what is left of the Buck Moon rising.

It seemed to be exactly half of the moon, like a generous slice of watermelon.  It isn't coincidence that brought me out to see this momentary slice of wonder.  I am a buck.  This is my moon.

Why Not Baseball Blog?

There have been quite a few curve balls being pitched my way these past few months.  Some have been easier to swing at than others.  Some have been just too darned wild to gain focus to begin to grip.

Then there are the moments when the pitch comes right to me.  An easy, "here you go" kind of pitch.

I still cannot identify that constellation in the south sky.  Tonight one of the stars was really flickering red.  And then just above it, the Milky Way was streaming.  As I sat on the stoop at the barn letting the goodles out for a late night stadium-fare, Rayito, one of my feral cats, comes walking out from behind the barn.  I haven't seen him lately.  He comes in just close enough to catch his vibe, he looked over at me to let me know he was doing alright, and pitter-pattered over to crouch down and watch the goodles browse.

I nodded my head in appreciation of the moment.

As I was walking back to the house, admiring the sparkling red star in my unknown constellation, a shooting star pitched itself in my direction.  I laughed.  I put out my catcher's mitt and caught that star in flight.

Celestial Wardrobe

Tonight's moonless sky

 like a rhinestone-studded

soft

black satin dress

 adorned

with a blazing sash

of the spiral Milky Way

no beginning

and

no end.

It's Beautiful

This is what I have been saying all day as I was glued to my laptop watching live feed of the rescue of the miners in Chile. "It's beautiful."

I couldn't come up with any other expression. As I stood in front of my screen with goosebumps and teary eyes watching yet another miner reach the top of the shoot in the capsula, I would say, "this is beautiful" or "it's beautiful" or "wow, this is so beautiful."

The impact of hundreds of people from all walks of life working ferociously on a common goal hit hard. The human spirit, when set about to focus on the greater good, is beautiful.

I suppose I could make a political statement or even more frightening, a politically correct statement. But neither of those are my intention.

My point is that we just witnessed a very beautiful event today. People from different religions, different political parties, people who wear different clothes, marry different people, speak different languages, eat different foods, pray to different gods, these same people got together and contributed their expertise, their ideas, their time and energy for the same goal.

And the result was, yes, you guessed it, beautiful.

We are more alike than we are different. A paraphrase of something Maya Angelou said.

It is a super clear sky tonight in Central Oregon. The stars are abundant. I will use them to wish many wishes that more can good be accomplished through our differences.

Chi-Chi-Chi-le-le-le. They offered a lesson to us these past 2 months. May we learn from what was endured.

Peace.