A little magic has emerged in my life. For a long time, I didn’t have the energy to go on walks, except for a minimal 5-minute walk to the end of our street. But somehow my energy has lifted a little, and for the last several days I have been able to walk to Capisic Brook, where it goes under the walkway to the elementary school, about 15 minutes total. It started January 2nd when, as I entered my driveway, I felt the presence of the Marie Madeleines, my ancestors from Îlets-Jérémie. “We are still with you.” They would have spent so much time walking in their lives. So I felt them walking with me in the early morning, greeting the dawn.
I heard the message from these ancestors: “You need new boots. Walking will be needed.” It was true that my boots were quite old and my feet were feeling it. So when I got back home, I did some online research, and then called a local store. After arranging it, I went in with a mask on, tried them on and bought myself some new boots. (The ones I wanted were on sale!) When I am lucky enough to hear a clear directive, I find it is so beneficial to follow it. And so I have kept walking almost every morning before breakfast. Even in the snowstorm, even in the first rainstorm. Yesterday I couldn’t get myself out there, but today the sun helped.
All these storms have been a challenge. We expect snow in winter in Maine. I like snow. But we’ve only had one snowstorm. There have been at least three huge rain and wind storms–first, when the spruce tree fell into the orchard, another January 9th into the 10th, and then yesterday which mostly caused damage at the shore during high tide. I took this photo of the brook at flood level on the 10th–because the branches of Capisic Brook flow through deep ravines, it doesn’t come onto roads in our neighborhood.
I can’t help but wonder what these weather changes mean for the future. Will rain and wind be the new winter, alternating with snow and cold? Someone posted (on Facebook-but no attribution) this little diagram that showed how climate warming destabilizes the polar vortex causing the extreme colds and unusual warms we are seeing right now. My sister in Montana reported -34 degrees, and Texas at 40 degrees, while we were up to 50 degrees.
While often I am most inclined to grieve or be afraid of all of this, I am also hearing the message that we must find a way to keep loving our changing earth mother, keep loving through the ups and downs. Perhaps it is also about the magic of walking–keep walking through the storms. I don’t know the answers but I am so grateful for the moments of connection and care.
I was not disappointed. First of all, there was the waning moon shining bright in the western sky. Then there was the gang of turkeys marching down the end of my street. Twenty strong, they roam the place like they own it, and they do, as much as we do. Around the corner, a neighbor walks her little dog: Sparkles is still a puppy and just can’t contain herself when I approach. She is trying to learn not to jump. But she jumps. So we say our good mornings with enthusiasm.
On my own again, around another corner, I hear a cardinal singing. He is already looking for a mate, or marking out his territory. I can see him in the tree, his characteristic shape visible with its tufted head, even though he is too far away to see the brightness of his red feathers.
The dawn wakes me up at 5 a.m. even though I went to bed after 11. Part of me cries, “No! I’m tired!” I’ve been weary and out of balance since my father died. But then I remember that the morning is my proper habitat. I remember that the dawn is full of magic. So I get up and go outside, and finally set up the screen tent that functions for me in summer as a place of meditation and prayer.
Finding Our Way Home 