Category: Animal Messengers

When the Bird of Night Bookends Your Day #barredowl

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections22 Comments

It was not yet 7:00am in the morning, I had reached over to grasp the teapot, about to fill it with water to brew a cup of chaga, when I looked out my kitchen window and saw the owl staring back at me. It was perched on the lowest branch of the hemlock just beyond the far side of the pool, a couple of yards away. An “Oh my god,” or something close to it, escaped from my mouth is I put down the teapot and grabbed the phone.

My morning visitor, a barred owl on a hemlock

There was no need to panic. The owl had no plans elsewhere, in fact, it was quite content to spend its morning in the copse of hemlocks, peering into my soul window, and occasionally onto the forest floor for a sign of breakfast. Or would that be dinnertime of an owl?

The barred owl casually hunting for a meal

One thing was certain, I had not been expecting a visitor of night to show up at my backdoor that morning. And, for a bird known for its eerie call that sounds an awful lot like “Whooo Looks for Yooouu?” my visitor never made a peep.

The barred owl was silent during the entire visit

For more than an hour, the owl hunted silently the small woods in my backyard, mostly staying in the same hemlock, and quite frequently peering into my soul window directly through into my eyes.

It was a bit unsettling, but felt like a gift

If you have never stared eye-to-eye with an owl, perhaps you will get a feel for what it’s like through these photos. There is a reason why owls have, throughout time, been associated with darkness and magic. A reason why they are associated with wisdom, secrets, and symbols of what is hidden and perhaps needs to be revealed. Every bit of lore associated with owls becomes unsettlingly clear when you stare eye-to-eye with one.

And then it was back

Since my morning visitor (who appeared again at the end of the afternoon), was a barred owl, I found myself starring into eyes blacker than night set inside a tawny white face with a yellow beak. It’s rather like looking into a sky devoid of stars (planets, satellites, and moons), but that doesn’t exist. Hence the feeling of otherworldliness. It is no wonder owls are associated with magic and mystery.

So much magic wrapped into one form

When I looked at my visitor, I saw my dear and departed friend and mentor Sue with her cloak of owl feathers, I saw my maternal grandmother, and I saw Athena encased inside one magnificent form that more than once I felt like hugging.

My visitor definitely had a huggable quality

Let’s face it, owls are rather adorable, albeit imposing figures. I have a tendency to want to hug pretty much any form of wildlife I see and it takes a fair bit of willpower not to. Instead, I settle with filming and taking photos, when possible. Yesterday brought two opportunities to do so, as the owl appeared again late in the afternoon, just after I had settled onto the sofa to work on my manuscript. It was nearly 4:40pm, and after typing a few lines in book three of the Warriors of Light series, in which perhaps not coincidentally, the barred owl makes a reappearance as an important messenger, my friend reappeared. This time, outside my living room window. Like déjà vu I looked out the window to find the same barred owl starring directly into my soul. Forget the crossout, I was now convinced.

A messenger from beyond the day

A Magical Day Leads to a Magical Night #bears #crows #northernlights

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections, the labyrinth, Warriors of Light, yoga20 Comments

It began with a large murder of crows and ended with the Northern Lights. Hundreds of the black birds spread across the rooftops and trees, flying into the brilliant October sky to send their caws to the wind and my awakened ears as I ventured from the parking lot to my class.

This would not be an ordinary day.

After a morning of teaching yoga and running errands, I returned home to a day without work. I fed the demanding cat a second breakfast, and the dogs their treats, then settled on the couch to cull through emails. Moments later, I felt an impulse to lift my head. Beyond the layers of autumn leaves and woven arms of the old apple and surrounding pines and maples, I saw a black shape in the oldest pine at the edge of my property. Even though it yielded no discernible shape, I knew instantly it was a bear.

Throwing caution to the wind (I do not advise this), I grabbed my phone and, without alarming the oblivious mutts, made my way onto the porch, out the back door, and through the gate in my backyard so that I could get a better look at what was attached to the old pine.

Mama bear from her sentry position on the pine

And there she was, staring through the golden leaves, watching me. Slung of the lowest limb that would hold her weight was a mama bear. Scampering up the trees above, were her three cubs. I inched slightly closer as I tried to focus my camera through the foliage to capture my unexpected guests. Not a smart choice, but I was close enough to the fence door for a quick exit should she decide to leave her post. Strangely, I felt safe and calm. Mama watched me without alarm as I snapped a few photos, and filmed her family as they settled in for a nap (Sorry, I am not attaching them film because I did utter an S*&t in shock).

And nap they did, for the next hour or so, while I wandered back inside to observe behind the safety of glass with Millie the cat. The dogs, succumbing to a strange impulse to slumber through their lunch hour, slept on their respective sofas, unfazed until their internal alarms finally alerted them that they had missed their meal.

Well not really, I fed the dogs a late lunch (and the cat, of course), and heated up some leftover butternut squash soup for myself while I strategized how I was going to walk the dogs without disturbing my slumbering guests.

It was as though the bears had put a spell on the household, and in particular the dogs. Quick to react to a passing dear, even when the curtains are drawn to the darkness, they failed to detect the four ursine intruders in their backyard, even after we walked through the front door. The only challenge was convincing Rosy that she did not want to take her usual lap around the house before we ventured down the street.

We were gone a mere ten or fifteen minutes, which is not uncommon for our walks these days. Senior dogs prefer the couch to the pavement, and so we turned back home before too long. As we entered the driveway, two crows flew above our heads, cawing into the pine behind the house where our visitors slept. Continuing to caw, as though in warning, they stayed in the tree until we were back inside.

As the dogs settled onto their couches to rest after their strenuous walk, I scanned through the foliage for my four friends. An hour unfolded into another as the bears woke, one by one, and casually made their way down the pine to explore the wooded area behind my house. Five hours in total, as I watched in rapt wonder with the occasional break, as they wrestled and played to the drumming of the woodpecker on my apple tree.

The cub I called Sula, trying to figure out how to use the swing in my backyard

It was pure magic. Joy mingled with peace as the protective calm of mama bear flooded the area around my home and made its way to settle any energy of unease inside my home. What a gift it was to be present, for these five hours, in quiet observation of these wild wonders. Naturally, I could not help thinking of my Warriors of Light protagonist Sula while I watched the bears climb and play. Lover of trees and slumber, Sula carries inside of her the spirit of bear. And it is bear medicine that found me yesterday, as it always seems to at unexpected, yet perfect moments, to pull me through the veil of dreams. Tugging, gently, the cloak away from courage.

Sula bear on the seesaw

What are you waiting for…come play

And as if this was not enough magic for the one day, the night decided to compete for wonder in a show of Northern Lights:

The northern lights viewed from the back and front yards

“I Will Send You Birds” #lifeafterdeath #signsfromspirit

On By Alethea KehasIn A Better World of Books, Animal Messengers, Reflections, the labyrinth, Warriors of Light28 Comments
A robin nesting in a lilac outside my window. I did not take photos of the robins two days ago. I just watched them in wonder, flying and gathering on the holly bush outside my window. Too many to count.

There were many moments after Sue Vincent passed away when I allowed myself to slip into the agony of the mundane. You might think agony is a strong word to use for the mundane, but let me try to explain why I chose this descriptor.

I believe we are birthed opening our eyes to wonder. We leave the vast infinite expanse of connection to experience individuality, but with the hope of holding onto the magic of being. We are not simply cells collected into a body to experience a finite existence, we are being itself. The most basic laws of physics tell us that our energy cannot be destroyed, yet how often do we allow ourselves to slip into the agony of the mundane doubting the magic of our infinite existence?

There are many things that remind me of this slip. Facebook’s algorithm pops up old photos and quotes from the years when I was wrapped in the magic of wonder. Blog posts reappear on my sidebar reminding me that the magic of life I recorded received more likes than the agony of the mundane. And, most importantly, the constriction of the cells within my body remind me that I am a body of wonder waiting to be expressed, again. Over and over again.

This is life.

Sue was, in many ways, a gateway to wonder for me. We met through wonder. I dreamt of the cosmic eye, and then she appeared. Soon after, I saw a vision of a hexagram, and it was Sue who nudged the opening of its magic. Sue came into my life at just the right moment. I needed a teacher and a guide to help me open to the labyrinth of light that threads through life, and together we traveled through time to find that connection. Sue was, literally, a gateway to magic. And when she passed, I mourned her with a fierceness I had not expected. I didn’t want to let that magic go.

And, of course, I didn’t have to. 

When I was working on the first chapters of Keys to the Heart I sent a passage to Sue for her input. The only thing she suggested I change was the use of the phrase, “of course.” I heeded her advice and erased the phrase each time I had used it, and made sure I omitted the impulse when it arose as I continued to write the book after her passing. With one exception, the dedication page.

“For Sue, of course.”

I can see her smiling. I can see that wrap of feathers she wore lifted into wings. I can see the wren, and the owl. The raven and the kite. And, two days ago, when I revealed the cover of my new book, I saw robins. Dozens of them. The most I have ever seen gathered together. In the middle of January. Outside my window. All day. Robins. The bird of birth and spring. It could not have been more fitting.

“I will send you birds.”

After Sue passed, and I began to question whether the thread of our connection still existed, Sue appeared to me during meditation. “I will send you birds,” she told me.

And so she has.

Of course.

A Magical Walk with a dragon, a coyote, and a blackbird #thousandoaks #dragonlines #lizardrock

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections, Travel Adventures, Warriors of Light15 Comments

I’ve come to the conclusion the best magic is that which arises unbeckoned and fills the soul with joy. During a family trip to California over the Thanksgiving holiday week, I had the pleasure of encountering this type of magic more than once.

We took the path ahead, which leads to Lizard Rock. You can just make out its profile in the tiny peak to the left of the center of the distant hill.

On the second morning of our stay in Thousand Oaks, my husband, daughter ventured to a nearby system of trails and left my sleep son behind in the hotel. A mere ten minutes drive from where we were staying, we were afforded several paths to choose from for our morning hike. After debating between Paradise Falls (which likely had no water to offer) and Lizard Rock, we chose the trail leading to the head of the dragon. We could just make out its profile on the far horizon and it seemed to beckon us. I didn’t know Sue would be waiting for us there, but I wasn’t surprised when I saw her.

Once we reached the head of the lizard/dragon, Sue appeared in the form of a blackbird (possibly a crow) circling above

Call me crazy, if you will, but those who are willing to open their minds to wonder will likely nod their heads in knowing. Life is filled with magic, we simply need to recognize it for what it is. We need to respond to its subtle cue and open our minds to wonder to welcome it through the door. When we do, rarely are we met with disappointment.

The spine of the dragon was guarded by a lurking coyote, but the next morning it was not…

The land we traveled that morning, as all land is on this planet, is ancient. This land, unlike many other places that have been radically altered my humankind, still bears the memories of magic. There was little doubt in my mind that it was once, and perhaps still is, considered a sacred place. A place where people intimately connected to Life had called forth in the energies of the land and the sky to feed the dragon lines. The rocks still hold the stories. As rocks tend to do. They are the bones of Earth. The keepers of memories long stored, waiting to be awakened.

The head of the “lizard” is much larger than it appears here and overlooks the valley and distant hills.

The weather was near perfect, the sky that impossible blue that only comes in autumn. Yet, the ground below our feet was scorched and withered for want of rain. Over to our right, as we walked toward the head of the lizard, a coyote paced the hillside, watching us. If we had wanted to venture toward the spiny back of the lizard, today was clearly not the day to do so.

Not the best photo, but you can just make out the hint of the coyote in the tan speck at the bottom middle of the closest green mound.

It was a little jarring to have our animal guide lurking so close beside us, especially with the knowing that one coyote often belies a pack inwaiting. But it was approaching mid-day and there were other hikers roaming the trails with canine companions of their own. Even if we were being watched, we were safe enough. And the symbolism of the coyote, with the blackbird that awaited us, could not be more fitting for a place such as this.

Sitting on the head of the dragon/lizard rock it is easy to contemplate the vast expanse of Life.

Lizard rock is just over a mile from the parking lot of Wildwood Park in Thousand Oaks, and when we arrived at its head we waited patiently for the hikers who proceeded us to take their photos. My daughter and I both wanted our turn, and as you can see, the view is well worth it. When a solitary blackbird appeared overheard circling above us I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt we had arrived at a special place. I could only imagine what it once must have been like to look upon nothing but wild wilderness and feel the rush of energy commence at the head of the dragon upon which I sat.

The honeybees on the few cati that were in bloom brought a glimmer of hope

Sadly, though, I could not ignore the feeling of neglect in its place. Southern California is suffering greatly from the effects of climate change and the land is so thirsty for water even the visiting body aches for it. I felt myself wishing I had the power of my Warriors of Light character, Dell, wishing I could sing the water back to water Earth.

The walls of the cave continued to fill, and Dell did not drown. She had becoming a part of the body of water. Together they moved against the structure of stone, softening its form and urging its pores open to fill hardened veins with life. Up they rose, higher and higher, as the water lifted the weight of time along its way to open air. 

And instead of fear, Dell felt only joy.

I wake to a cardinal singing at my window after a semi-existential crisis dream #cardinal #parenting #midlife

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Reflections24 Comments
Image by Chris Chow from Pixabay

I had been dreaming about being at school. That is not unusual for me. Last night I was back at Bowdoin College, but it really wasn’t anything like the Bowdoin I attended nearly 25 yrs ago. Instead, it felt foreign and strange. I was enrolled in four classes, yet hardly even attended the lectures. I couldn’t seem to remember where my classrooms were, let alone the room number of my dorm room. The dream was filled with angst, reflecting the, well, let’s just call it a semi-existential crisis I’ve been battling these days: What the heck am I doing here and where the heck am I going with my life?

Yep, I know that sounds extreme and dramatic. And, quite frankly it’s something I circle back to from time-to-time. I’m now at the stage of life when my kids are nearly ready to head off to college. As they get ready to embark upon life outside of their childhood home, I can’t help but think about what that means for me.

Once again, I’ve found myself circling back to the idea of returning to school, myself. It doesn’t matter that I’ll be 50 in less than three years, I seem to have a passion for life-long learning. The only thing that tends to hold me back is the money. Which is an underlying block in my current semi-existential crisis.

School seems a foolish thing to think about for myself when my own two kids will be heading out the door in just a few short years. Even though our household income is higher than most, it’s not enough to pay for 4 yrs x 2 kids’ college tuition costs. When my husband recently announced our current rate of college savings and how he had hoped that I would have been able to contribute more through my meager income, I felt a wave of panic and guilt set in. Every dream and hope I had for my life, and our shared life as a family of four, began to dance in spectral forms around me.

I don’t mean to be dramatic here, but I wonder how many other stay-at-home-parents feel the same way and are haunted by similar ghosts of a future that could have been, but never was…

Even though I wouldn’t trade back my time at home with my kids, if I could do it over again I would have a plan in place for this time in my life. I would have thought long and hard about a career that could be picked up again after a long absence, or one that could be nurtured part-time as I nurtured my children full-time from home.

I don’t life in a society that makes it easy for mother (or fathers) to return to the workforce after long leaves of absence, at least not in careers that honor higher degrees of education beyond the high school level. Nor does it assign monetary value to the work that is done by a stay-at-home-caregiver. It is, for the most part, an unpaid and thankless job.

Yet, despite this, I would not trade in my time with my children. I also know they are grateful for my presence in their lives. As the saying goes, it’s nearly impossible to have it all. So we must instead as ask what is enough?

In my present state I have come to realize that I tend to define my own worth too much by monetary values without allowing myself to accept how much value there is to the unpaid work that I do. That’s where my friend the cardinal comes in.

After a night of struggling with my inner-demons, I woke to birdsong. Mind you, it’s the middle of February and temperatures are below freezing when I wake most mornings, including this morning. I am not used to hearing birdsong in the middle of winter outside my window.

At first I was a little annoyed. I rather liked the idea of a few more minutes of sleep on a day when an early rise was not needed. But there was no further sleep to be had. The bird was insistent, and soon after I pulled the plugs from my ears I had a good idea of what type of bird it was. I wasn’t, though, quite expecting it to be so bold.

The cardinal was the first thing I saw as I pulled aside the curtains. Its crimson coat, a bold contrast to the snow-brushed hemlocks as it peered back at me and sang. It was eye-level. The only bird in sight. The only bird singing. Fine, I told it, I’ll look you up in Ted’s book later.

I should not have been surprised by what I read, but somehow I had not recalled that particular bit about the cardinal as a messenger. In the last sentence of Ted Andrew’s description of cardinal in Animal Speak, you will find these words, “…remember that everything you do is of importance.”

I am sharing them here, because if I needed the reminder, perhaps you do too.

My Feathered Seer is Apparently Asleep in my Playroom #dreams #pileatedwoodpecker #dreamguides #dreammessengers #innerchildhealing

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Dreams, ReflectionsLeave a comment
Photo Credit: Pixabay

It was dark in the room, as it often is during the daytime. My children, lapsed back into younger years, opened the seldom used front door to let the wild bird inside. It flew, or rather seemed to stumble, bumping along the floor for awhile until it settled under the couch into sleep. There it stayed for quite some time. I can’t tell you exactly how long, as dream time stretches and bends in funny ways. And soon enough the dream shifted, and my feathered seer disappeared.

I left the pileated woodpecker behind in the room we once referred to as our children’s playroom, but is now a library/game room, and found myself inside a museum. Well, that’s not entirely correct. If memory serves me, I was first outside. Once again, the light was muted as you often see in movies to build dramatic effect. Here the old blended with the new, again, and I found my eyes pulled to the stones. No surprise, really. That’s where the seer resides and reads the secrets held within.

I was excited. Sure that there had once been a circle in a place now built up by more modern hands. “See that one,” I pointed, “and that one!” The position, size, and alignment could not be accidental. And then it all began to fall apart. Suddenly I was inside the museum in need of a restroom. Here I found myself literally exposed. The bathroom was more an office than a cell, open to windowed rooms with people inside, and a wide open door where others walked by. And there I sat in the center with my pants down, exposed and worried about what others were seeing and perceiving. My sight pulled in angst to the world constructed around me while the inner spirit struggled to break free and wander back outside with the stones.

I am not surprised by the dream. When one ignores the first sign, another one will inevitably appear. About a week ago, I dreamt of another “play room.” This one was hidden inside my sister’s house. When I stepped inside this unexpected wonder, a child’s dream unfolded. Gradually I was draw to the vast windows where I stood in awe peering into the vast wilderness beyond. As in the dream last night, there were feathered beings. More than one. Young and downy, their colors muted into balls of fluff. Fledglings impossibly large, and birthed forth in autumn instead of spring. No, I thought, it could not be. They were so healthy and vibrant. Filled with the promise of life.

Before I woke completely into morning, I had another dream experience that has lingered with me. It is a brief recall. This time I found myself inside a vehicle with the radio turned on against my will, playing a recording of my voice. The first sounds were those of coughing, as though I was clearing my lungs of congestion. Then the coughing turned into a humming of sorts. “No,” I said embarrassed, “Don’t listen to that.” My voice on display, to my ears, echoed back to me dissonance as I resisted. Then strength grew into a sound that sung of freedom. It felt powerful and clear, now that all the gunk had cleared. “Take care,” the voice urged before it stopped. “Take care of you.”

I find myself now wondering, in the sometimes harsh light of day, how many of us are feeling the same way. This long year that has held fear and constriction for so many of us has, no doubt, left imprints on us. Perhaps, like me, you have used the pandemic and political turmoil as an excuse not to wander outside the confines of containment, and by containment I don’t mean those imposed to preserve health. Rather, I am referring to the free spirit that is a winged thing always yearning to fly. Always yearning to sing to the tune of inner truth. I must remind myself to play. To wander into magic, even if it involves outer restrictions. To let the feathered seer awaken once again and commune with the mysteries of life that return the wonder of the inner child.

Neglecting the soul is never a good thing, as I was reminded before I woke to this day. If we ignore its yearnings, a restlessness sets in. And sometimes, that restless turns to malaise.

Seeding the stones: Keeping A Promise to a Dragon and a Stone Part 4 #vthikes #dragonlines #dragonstones

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, the labyrinth, Travel Adventures, Warriors of Light10 Comments

We left the eye with more questions than answers. Inside my mind’s eye I could still see the figure of white light standing over the pyramid stone. Waiting for our arrival. Waiting for the white pillar of crystal I had promised to seed at its base.

So much to see and discover off the beaten path.

It was a short walk, through the tangle of roots and moss, to get back to the stone that had filled my thoughts for two months. I dropped my backpack nearby, and began digging through the contents for the wrapped selenite and Sophia’s small pyramid of rose quartz. As I searched for the pink stone, a noise rustled the forest into alert and we knew hikers were approaching.

Worry set in a bit as I wondered if we would be interrupted when it really matter most, but I soon discovered that our visitors were, in essence, just what we needed. A heaviness had set in after leaving the guardians and the white boulder. I, personally, felt a bit of an unease as to whether we were really meant to be near the “eye,” or had tried to “look” too closely at what was not meant to be observed. But there had been the wren, and I had to believe there was a purpose to our visit, even it if was not wholly revealed.

Ari the wolf-like rescue dog. Eager to make new friends.

The wolf-dog appeared before his human companion. Later, Deb would remark about how even her appearance seemed more than accidental. A tall blond with blue eyes filled with an ethereal light. She and her rescued husky brought a joy that was much needed. That had somehow dissipated after our climb.

Ari and his caretaker had lightened our collective mood, and after their departure we decided to take a few moments to ground ourselves with some food and water. It was clear, through our visitors, that we were not meant to rush.

Trusting the inner guidance I was receiving, I suggested we form our own pyramid to seed our offerings and then join our energy with the energies surrounding us.

It was a natural unfolding, the white pillar slid into darkness, settling well below the base of the mighty stone above it, while Sophia and Deb seeded their stones at the points of their calling. No one else appeared from the trails as we gathered together again to extend our arms into three sides. Each voice, in turn, opening to words of gratitude for our presence being allowed. And, our offerings being received.

Our work soon felt complete, and a quiet fatigue settled in as we began to make our descent down the mountain. Although we shared words, we were also individually wrapped in the processing of our experiences. I, wondering if the lines might shine a little brighter than when I had first arrived on the serpent mountain two months prior. And, perhaps, a little more opened. Lines rejoining as the crystals settled back into the body of the Mother.

“It’s a snake!” Deb announced, as I shrieked and jumped back into the arms of Sophia.

“Oh gosh,” I apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare it away.”

Not the snake from that day, but similar.

A garter snake, well into adulthood, its brown and tawny body blending with the earth, slithered away from our path and into the underbrush of the forest.

I thought of Shesha, the snake-boy from my book. The fourth character in the six to appear that day. And we all thought of Isis. It seemed a fitting guide for the end of our journey.

The small blue car coasted down the mountain with more ease than it had ascended. As we turned the corner to join the main road, a bear arose from the wooden face of a store placard. There, before me, was my sign from Sula, the bear-girl. All that was left was Dell. The otter girl. I realized the chances of seeing an otter that day were slim, but still I wondered if the hexagram would complete itself.

Less than twenty-four hours it would. Opening the screen of my computer, an otter would appear. It was time to await the next journey. Wherever and whenever that might be.

The Eye Opens: Keeping a Promise to a Dragon and a Stone Part 3 #VThikes #dragonlines #leylines #sacredsites

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, Reflections, the labyrinth, Travel Adventures2 Comments

When we arrived at the pyramidal stone that had caught my eye during my first visit, I found myself worrying a bit about encountering other hikers. The stone is not far from the intersection of three trails, making it likely we would not be alone. Yet I need not have worried. All beings we met seemed to be messengers even when they were not aware that they were.

This image is from my trip in July. Can you see the face near the apex?

I pointed the stone out to Sophia and Deb, who could not deny the significance of its shape. It also seemed to mark the entrance to an area that pulled us into a desire to explore, and so after paying our regards with the knowing we would return, we ventured off the beaten path.

I immediately had the sensation of entering into what felt like the body of the dragon. Dimension began to slip away, and the mind softened as the inner sight opened. I knew my companions were feeling the opening too, but I would not know until we rejoined how similar our experiences were.

As I walked, past dreams and visions started to knit together, as worlds folded into each other. As strange it all seemed, it also made sense. At least to the degree I was meant to understand that day. I soon discovered the land here holds its secrets tightly guarded and a trust must be earned to enter into their mysteries.

An other-worldly presence was undeniably evident, it turns out, to all of us. The face in the pyramid stone that had appeared during my trip in July, along with the large stone head at the beginning of our walk that day, could no longer be claimed as mere coincidences. I am a skeptic by nature, but I could not deny what I was seeing once Deb and Sophia revealed that they, in fact, had seen the same.

Yet it wouldn’t be until later, after I had some time to digest the experience, that I would begin to connect the dots and wonder how lives past and present were weaving together for a purpose just beginning to be defined. “Ammon Ra!” I was nowhere near Egypt, but the pyramids were everywhere, dimensions had collapsed the stars into Earth, and one tiny messenger was about to lead us to a mysterious eye.

I believe it was Deb who first spotted the tiny brown bird flirting among the shadows of the trees. It flew just beyond our reach, and difficult to detect. Were it not for its voice, we may have lost it. Yet despite its illusive nature, the bird seemed to beckon us to follow, and so we did. It was, in my mind, without a doubt, another messenger. Perhaps our most important one.

“I think we need to go there. In fact I know we need to go there,” I announced as I pulled my companions into the undergrowth of a path that wasn’t marked by human footsteps. The energy of the beacon had an undeniable force, yet there was a point when I knew we must stop.

Surrounding us were guardians staring out from the trunks of trees, peering through the visages of moss covered stones, and leering up at us through darkened holes. I was beginning to feel rather like I was in some Tolkien novel and the words, “Thou shalt not pass,” echoed through my mind.

We gathered between the grumpiest “troll” and the wooden head of a dragon guardian, forming a makeshift triangle on the uneven earth after we placed offerings of herbs and corn near the watchful eyes.

This wooden dragon brought back memories of a recent dream

On one side of us was the alpine forest, on the other, an immense white stone. If I had any doubts it housed the treasure being guarded, they soon disappeared.

Soon after our eyes closed in meditation, the serpent appeared. Its body emerged from the white boulder just over the head of Sophia and quickly wrapped the crown of our trinity. There it held us until we were finished.

“She’s standing in wait,” I whispered, eyes still closed and fixed upon the pillar of white energy waiting by the pyramid stone. Who she was, I still cannot say for sure, but she knew we were coming, and I was pretty certain I had seen her before. I recalled the “white goddess” who appeared in England at the foot of my bed years before, pulling the bedclothes back, urging me to surrender to the fey queen’s bidding. I thought also of Sophia, who had pulled the card for Isis before we had left. Was this her serpent energy that wrapped us tight?

It was after we rose from our mediation that I really looked at the white rock we stood beneath. “It’s the eye,” I don’t know how I knew it, but I was certain of my words.

A rock not meant to be climbed

Sophia, drawn to the curious markings that crisscrossed its surface, tried to get closer. The soft earth of the lid pulled her back and she lost her footing. “I don’t think we’re meant to go any nearer,” Deb and I both declared.

It was difficult to over-look the markings…

After a taking a few photographs, it was clear the “eye” had given has all of its gifts for the day. It was time to complete the mission of our journey and return to the pyramid stone and offer up the white pillar from Mystery Hill.

To Be Continued…

The Path of the Pyramids: Keeping a Promise to a Dragon and a Stone Part 2 #VThikes #dragonlines #pyramidstones #sacredsites

On By Alethea KehasIn Animal Messengers, Gaia & Elementals, Memoir, the labyrinth, Travel Adventures, Warriors of Light9 Comments
A little pyramidal cave in the rocks

There were at least as many pyramids as there were hearts along the journey that led us to one particular stone pyramid at the crown of the dragon. Too many to count, and probably a lot that were missed by our eyes. It seemed, though, like the hearts, more than a coincidence… Pyramids carved into the faces of stones, stones opening to their portals such as the one above, and rocks that had somehow fallen from Earth’s openings into perfect pyramidal shapes.

A “portal” pyramid in the boulders

Guides continued to appear as we ascended the mountain. Soon after the chipmunk, a call rang through the canopy above. “It sounds like an eagle,” Sophia remarked, “I was told an eagle would be here today.”

We did not see the eagle, but days before I had seen an eagle twice in my travels. Three times in total this summer.

Followed by the eagle, was a yellow butterfly spotted by Deb. It was becoming a little uncanny. Not only were these common guides in my personal life, the eagle and butterfly are two of the totems in my Warriors of Light series. And it would get stranger from there…

This beautiful wolf-like dog appeared at an uncanny moment for us. His name was Ari, the eagle-boy in my book series, yet he resembled Lupe, the wolf-boy.

Worlds started to collapse as the mountain watched us walk its body. So many watchers, I would later remark that I was grateful I did not take this journey alone.

So many guardians in the trees

After that rather shocking encounter with the rock face that looked like the head of a galactic being, we were constantly aware of being observed. Ents appeared in the taller trees and trolls below them. Some seemed happier than others about our presence and it was clear we were walking in a land that did not really belong to humans.

Dragon wing?

A land, we would feel every-increasingly, that was guarded with a purpose. And, was alive with forces that, well, seemed other-worldly. Unlike in many of the places I have visited in England, where the magic of the land was enhanced by an ancient sophisticated society that moved and placed stones with deliberation, here mighty stones formed uncanny alignments by the forces of Earth.

We couldn’t help but feel the body of the dragon as we neared the summit

Yet there were so many similarities. The feeling of dimensions collapsing and realms mixing. The feeling of forces dormant and waiting to be reawakened…it was more than obvious a dragon lines ran through this land, and the three of us could not help feeling and seeing that the stars also had a special alignment with this serpent mountain.

Although this may not be the best depiction, there are curious carvings in the rocks of this mountain that made each of us think of the stars.

And, even though we had not chosen to walk the path of the water lines, the feeling of the element was present. It was held in the body of the stones with whale beings seemingly embedded into the body of the dragon. Fire and water. Alchemy. I couldn’t help but think of how the magical hexagram was here. And I could only hope that the lines were still alive here, even though there were obvious disruptions. Most notably, the towers of metal we could not bring ourselves to linger near for too long (much less photograph) that several feet (thankfully) away from the crown.

One of the whale stones we encountered

Memory and intuition brought us to the crown even though we were walking an unfamiliar path to get there. The increasing pulse, pulling us to our destination to place our offerings and heed the land’s calling, whatever it may be. And if it were not for the wren, we may never have seen the eye…

To be continued…