I wrote several weeks ago saying that due to a frantically busy August, Karin and I would go on a Tip Vacation until September; however, Mother Nature has come to me in a number of different ways over here in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont (USA) that just couldn't have happened back in the Land of Avalon, and I wanted to tell you about Her.
As there are many more people per square inch in Britain, in many ways, Nature has been pushed into the hedgerows and out on to the moors and wetlands. But She is still there. There are a few exceptions to this. One spectacular display for me happens each January, when the starlings come to the Somerset Levels in the MILLIONS! Yup millions. When they come home to roost in the evenings, they darken the sky until there just isn't room for any more. And then more come. And more. Truly spectacular!
Just a few of the Millions
of Starlings on the Somerset Levels
Here in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont the human population is significantly less dense than in Britain, and so Nature comes a lot closer. The loons on our lake are forever making raving-loonie noises that can really disturb you if you don't know what they are. Several nights ago some coydogs (a cross between a coyote, a dog, and maybe a wolf) were howling their lonely wails at the full Moon. But there have been several other wild animals who have come particularly close to me while I have been here.
One evening I was coming home to my old house in Greensboro that I am trying to sell. I am cleaning out with my kids' help right now. We had been leaving doors open because - well, that's how you can do it around here. I only had the Moon to light the way from my car to the barn door that I wanted to close for the night, when I saw a white - what I first thought was a head from the Spirit world - floating along the ground toward the same door. A bit scary until I realised that it was the white tail of a rather large skunk who was headed toward the same door! So I started talking quietly to it, and said, "Hello Skunkie. You can't go in there. Please go back home Mr. Skunkie." And that's just what he did. He turned around and walked back into the field beyond the house. I don't know if you have ever had the pleasure (not) of getting a nose full of eau de skunk when they get excited, but if you never have experienced this bit of Nature in action, I am happy for you.) Fortunately, Mr. Skunkie didn't leave his calling card that night. (Also chipmunks had been coming in through the open kitchen door and climbing up on to the dining room table to take big bites out of the nectarines we had there. They don't seem to like plumbs though.) Needless to say, we're closing all of the doors now.
Sig's Place in Vermont
(Viewed from Mr. Skunkie's Field)
Then several days ago, we were just about to leave the house when my Grandson Finn cried, "There's a hummingbird caught in the garage!" Greensboro in the summer is blessed by having a number of ruby-throated hummingbirds, and one had flown in to the garage through an open lower window and was frantically trying to exit through a higher glassed-over window. Its wings were beating so fast that I almost couldn't see them, and I knew its tiny body couldn't take much more of this frantic pace. So I reached my hand towards it, and softly said, "Let me help you. I won't hurt you." I put my had over it, and picked him up by its delicate wing, and quickly let him out of the open window, and he flew away. Free at last!
There's something very thrilling about being that close to Mother Nature. It's like being close to home. Close to Mom.
And now, as that old song goes, "See you in September!"
p.s. We can't fill any shop orders (for physical items) until 20 August, but both Karin and I are open to doing email psychic bodywork and tarot readings any time.