As I prance through Centennial Woods the crunch of fresh snow fills my ears. I open up all my senses: my sight, hearing, and ability to touch. The sound of chirping cardinals, screeching crows, and rustling branches sends me into a complete state of being. To listen, to pay attention, is the key to acknowledging that the earth speaks.
ॐ With a vibrating sound of “Om” I honor the divinity within oneself. I slip into a state of consciousness and creativity like never before and simply observe. The beech and striped maples remain bare, yet the pine and conifers are glazed with fresh powder. The last time I visited this natural area, the riverbed was shallow, yet still sent a gentle flow of glistening water. Now, over a month later, this same area is encapsulated by this pearl-like layer of snow. I stand here for a moment and just listen… The sound of flowing water still remains even though it’s not quite visible. The birds are still chirping. Nature may be resting, however that doesn’t mean it isn’t still speaking.
What happened here?
As I come closer to my spot, I observe some animal tracks on top of the riverbed. I gaze at the defined prints and think… what happened here? What type of animal decided it would be a good idea to risk falling into the ice? I inspect carefully, my mind pondering different ideas… Raccoon? No, too defined and the shape of nails remain. A fox? Hmmm, that would make more sense. In order to let these thoughts flow I begin to write. A story erupts from this image and the earth speaks to me….
“As the trees creak
and the river whistles,
the birds chirp
and soar…
waiting for their next whisper…
‘Come over here!” the cardinal chirps
The birds flutter over
and listen…
“Look at this fool, he’s walking on ice… and he doesn’t even know it!”
Let’s just observe.
Let’s just listen.
The fox scurries,
imprinting his small feet in the plush white snow…
The cardinals watch,
“Plop!”
The ice breaks.
The fox’s tail is now wet, his feet submerging in the frigid water…
What do the cardinals do?
They flutter over,
and free him.
They take their small beaks and pluck the ice until the fox can scurry away…
“Thank you…gentle souls” the fox whispers…
and the cardinals simply chirp and fly away.
Listen.
Pay attention.
You never know the inner workings of the earth, until you let it speak and just listen…” (Howlett, 2024)
As I was exiting the trail I noticed some rustling. I decided to look up. A cherry red cardinal chirped above me, looking at me with a keen sense of knowing. It’s like we had met before. The more I write, create, and become connected to the inner workings of the earth I sense a deep, soulful bond with the man that taught me how to feel and create. To my Peps, my lovely, wise, creative, sensitive soul. I love you. I know you are watching me.