Sunday, April 7, 2019

come and I will sing you


     Welcome welcome!  Happy Spring at last!  Come on in and have some pie!
     Yes, there is a lot of green coming through already, though it mostly still looks like hay – the green is in there, more than you think!  And if you reach down to touch it, there is that dewy softness to it, that surging feeling of life that your fingers remember even after you’ve lifted them.
     Yes, that’s Clover in the book room – he’s taken to keeping his black wolf ears and long shaggy tail even in his human form.  It suits him.  He even does the half-moon eyes when he smiles sometimes, which works a lot better than one would think it would.
     Still a bit cold to sit outside though, so we’ll have the pie in the kitchen, and I’ll tell you about my adventure today, in the early Spring weather.
     Well I’d been out a couple weekends ago, up to the Gardens, and saw many birds and even a white rippling in the air that I am thinking may have been sylphs.  That was the day I first sang this year’s Spring song, feeling the nearness of Earth and Persephone, and the little winds caressing my cheeks as I walked home.
     Today, a very mild day, though still busy with the winds – they say that eventually one learns which of the elements one is more inherently attuned to, and given all the birds and breezes – and the cicada who landed on me a couple years ago on a walk and wouldn’t fly away for a hilariously long time – plus the communication and manifestation element of who I am and the singing magick that I do, that I’m probably pretty strongly in the Air camp.   
     I walked up to the Gardens with a dragon by my side, discussing the magicks that might be best to work on, to help the Spring become.
     Being the first really Springlike weekend of the year so far, the Gardens were full of people being loud.  It took a long time to find a spot that was quiet enough to stand and really look and listen – though on the way I saw beautiful soft-looking squirrels – black ones and grey ones, with black liquid eyes, showing off their newly-acquired peanut treats, tossed to them illegally by well-meaning humans, and oh well.  But squirrels always call me to think of Ratatosk, the squirrel on the Tree, and so a reminder of our connectedness.  I also heard and saw vivid cardinals, pipping and nimbling from branch to branch – while the humans ignored them, in their eagerness to illegally feed the squirrels.
     As I walked from the place where I had been watching the cardinals, suddenly a long-legged fuzzy black flying insect flew right into my face, bop! on my right side, between my nose and mouth!  I jerked my head back, blowing air through my nose, and I didn’t see what the insect was.  Only a few steps later did I start to wonder – it is still quite chilly and I didn’t think the bugs would be out yet.  Maybe it was really a faerie, remembering me from before and rushing up to kiss me without warning!
     Yeah, it was probably a bug.
     Finally I got to a little patch of grass, curving along the path of the nearby creek, with the wonderful smells of the waking earth and wild waterflow, out of the way of the main path of the loud people, so I stopped there, and just watched and listened.  There were squirrels on the rising ground on the other side of the water, and a small groundhog rustling around.  There were also tiny, tiny birds – so tiny I thought they were big bugs until I saw the way they flew and hopped – I still don’t know what kind of tiny birds those were!
     I began singing, bringing through the song that wanted to come, and when I first paused in it, I noticed that two little ducks, a green-headed male and a lovely slender brown female, about half the size of the usual mallards and mates in the park, had paddled up and were looking under the waters a little ways away from me, going about their ducky business.
     A trio of loud young people came up about that point, laughing loudly and shouting to each other even though they were very close together, but I held very still and the ducks did too, and eventually they louded themselves all the way past us and away.  At one point though, when they were about three quarters past us, the female duck looked at me and mouthed with its bill ‘blah blah blah blah blah’, which made me almost snort-laugh.
     Yup, shared a joke with a duck today.
     After that I felt the song wanting to continue, so I picked it up again, and the little ducks moved closer to me, still just going about their business, although occasionally looking over at me.  Another little trio came close at one point, a couple with a young child, but this time I kept singing, and they were fairly respectful.  And a little while later, two people came up on my other side, and they seemed to be listening.  I was deep in the song though and so I just kept going, and they eventually moved on.
     Meanwhile the little ducks came almost up to where I was – certainly they were right in front of me in the creek, and closer to where I stood than before, while I sang.
     Finally, there came a point where I was done, the song was allowed to end, so I let it end, took a few steps softly back, giving gratitude, and then I turned and marched back to the main Gardens.  And I really noticed the green in things, as I made my way back – more green amidst the hay than I remembered coming down. 
      Was there really more?  Or had I just attuned more strongly, through the song I brought through, to the green that was already there, coming through? 
      Maybe a bit of both?
      So that was good, a good outing.  It was funny being in that deeply attuned state though – I even had a pleasant (silent of course) conversation with the bus on the short ride back, a sense of it like a steady old horse on its rounds, and gave it a little pat in thanks before I got off at my stop.
      I do recommend it though, getting out into Nature, or the closest you can get to Nature – some part of Nature you can get near to – and singing through the song that wants to come.  I’ve seen and heard from a number of sources – even and especially in the incredible Sounding Session I attended last weekend – that Gaia needs our songs.  Recognition, gratitude, healing, attuning – a song’s always a good place to start.
     And if you’re looking for magick to do, any magick to help Earth, that’s really the best thing to focus on usually, too.  I may have more to say on this subject during another visit, because I have had some fairly foundation-shaking moments to do with that, and I’d love to tell you about it.
      I do also recommend conversing with ‘inanimate’ things whenever possible as well.  You’d be surprised. 
      Ah!  Geese in the air, calling as they fly over the cottage!  Good to see and hear them returning!
      Well here, bring a piece of pie with you for later, you can heat it up when you get back to your home.  We still need the extra warmth for a little bit longer – even this coming week they’re still expecting some freezing times.
     Be safe, be well, lovely to visit as always!
     See you soon!