The (dead) crow, the red fox & the turkey (feather)

I used to keep a journal just for animal encounters. Not just animals, insects too, and birds, and all manner of non-human life forms I met up with each day. I was interested in their symbolism and what it might mean to me. Synchronicities and patterns. The universe talking in code. I used to do a lot of things I no longer do, and these days I am acutely aware of how much I am allowing myself to be wrapped up in the mundane, favoring it over the magic of life. Not because I want to, but because I have somehow convinced myself that I must. I must search not for encounters, but for artificial messages. Messages that I must send to get readers for my new book. It is a task I do not like, but that in itself is a lesson and, therefore, a gift. How do I make magic out of the mundane? Somedays it’s easier than others.

When the jobs we feel we must do become a chore, should we continue on in toil, or should we pause and breathe into the depth of being to find the magic contained within the moment that is always offered to us? The moment upon which we trail our breath and our thoughts, whether they be rapid, or peaceful? Today there were many encounters throughout my day which felt forced, labored, without fruit. Yet, there were also pauses when I stopped to be present.

I watched the squirrel, boldly wearing red fur as it masqueraded as an acrobat climbing up, then down my apple tree stealing apples in its mouth and leaping through limbs as though gravity was a ruse. I could almost believe anything was possible until I returned to the drudgery of musts. “You must do this to sell books.” “You must do that.”

The voice inside my heart forever whispering against the pull of musts, “just let it be.” “They’ll find the words you wrote for them, somehow.” I don’t always believe in somehows, but the voice inside me tells me I should.

The crow that stopped my feet today was dead. Its head pointed downhill. Black feathers tucked above the vibrant green of grass on this sunless day. I couldn’t help but think of magic extinguished. It had fallen beneath wires. Was it electrocuted by too much force? Energy coursing outside its bounds? The owl had been found in nearly the same place, also dead, one month before. I cannot help but think of the two bird messengers in my book. Grandmother Crow. The owl who haunts the last pages with a warning…

Yet death, I am reminded by yesterday’s snake, is not an end, but a beginning. Decayed life breeds new life in that ever-lasting cycle. How can I forget the wisdom of Shesha? Did I not write his story upon the pages too?

Briefly, today, I thought about fairies. Sue had reblogged a post about the fey and for some wonderful moments, I was transported into the realm of magic not often seen. Perhaps that was why I was lead by the turkey feather, which floated up from the blackened road as though wanting to be seen. To be caught, as I drove home. So I took the ever-willing dog for a walk, and there it was still. In the middle of the road. Large, curved and perfect. Banded in brown. A solitary turkey feather waiting for my hand to receive its gift.

So I twirled it in my fingers, feeling the life still present. Blessed life. A reminder of abundance. Down the road, a red fox wandered from the twilight woods and stopped to fix my gaze. We stared as though each daring movement, until a car passed by. Some say foxes hold the secrets of the fey. Cunning, bold, stealthy. Red, like the squirrel. Have I lost touch with the red blood of Earth? I wrote the words in this book, in part, to save her. Created six warriors with a mission to repair her broken veins, forgetting, after I had finished, that one must care for the inner body, always, while caring for the outer. And so I look back upon today. To the red squirrel taking with ease the fruit of the apple back to its nest. The dead crow charged with too much power. The lone turkey feather in the middle of the road. One perfect blessing waiting to be held. And the red fox, who had ventured, for a moment, out of the hidden realm to say hello.

 

GrandmotherCrowquote1
Grandmother Crow speaking her ancient wisdom from the pages of The Labyrinth

 

 

11 thoughts on “The (dead) crow, the red fox & the turkey (feather)

  1. Maybe it is that we are meant to be walking in two worlds now – the spiritual and the mundane. Finding the balance point is tricky though. I’m very involved in the mundane world at present as I do the final clean up and packing here. I couldn’t get through if I didn’t spend quite a lot of time each day meditating and listening to MP3 visualisations.
    The inner feeds the outer and the outer feeds the inner.
    I don’t have any great wisdom to impart about books and promotion. I wrote a book about the state of the earth too some years ago. I published on Kindle – sold about 50 then gave away about 250 from memory. Others do much better than this – others not so well. It’s a hard thing to do.

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    1. Thank you, Suzanne. It is not always easy to walk between worlds and find that balance, as we both know. Summers are always a challenge for me with the kids at home and all the energy that summer brings with it. As for book promotions, self-publishing, I find is a real challenge that some embrace, but I do not. I think I’d still prefer to find a publisher one of these days…we’ll see. Thank you for empathizing. ❤

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      1. I can see how maintaining the spiritual life with kids around would be hard. I find that when I stay with family. Little kids are so energetic!
        I agree about the book promotion. I found it really hard. I agree about finding a publisher. These days I look at the book I wrote as a first draft. I sometimes think I should edit it and treat it as the first part of a longer story. So far I haven’t got past thinking about – maybe when I move…

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I’ve been thinking about rewriting this book for years. I pulled it off kindle in about 2016 when sales totally stopped. I think the thing with publishers is to find a small niche one that publishes your genre. In the UK there are probably several. Good luck. 🙂

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  2. Pingback: The (dead) crow, the red fox & the turkey (feather) ~ Alethea Kehas | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

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