Wing and a prayer

A bit over a week ago I was trying to find some equilibrium, trying to find a point of stability in an emotional landscape that had gone from slowly rising to precipitously descending. I headed for a rock filled park, slowly drawing peace from the stone and cold weeping rain. Thought seeped away and after a while I could walk in simple appreciation of bird song and the textures of rock and pine.

I entered a clearing in the trees to join a grouping of deer. Without leaving my still center I asked one to pay heed, locked eyes with her, and talked of my needs and wishes. I spread out, tried to quell her small fears and help her find peace in this moment, in the muted drizzle of the rain and the gentle whisper of pine needles in the wind. She lowered her head to graze and as I passed beside her I gave her a message to pass on when the time came, then left the clearing to climb a tall hill.

The peak jutted above the tree tops and the wind blew fierce. The gentle rain was transformed into something more demanding and the harshness of the moment filled a need deep within me.

I sat down and folded my legs, sunk into my center and watched the tree branches toss below me. Abruptly the wind gusted then waned and the rain dripped to a halt. A heron flew around the edges of the hill and landed in a tree top nest. Vultures drifted in loose circles enjoying the passing of the rain and small birds started tossing songs to each other.

The feeling of transformation compelled me to form a prayer, let my words tell the world and myself what direction I needed to go. I pressed my hands flat on the stone beside me, tried to pull the rock into me.

"Oh ancient stone, I ask for strength to make it through this time. Let me have the courage to feel things deeply, let me feel pain but rise above it. Let me grow from my experiences as I walk this world. Thank you earth, for all you have given me".

I lifted my hands from the rock, intending to slowly raise them to the air. I meant to say "Oh birds of the air", but what I heard myself say was "Oh great bird of the air".

Immediately upon the word "air" a mature bald eagle flew directly over my right shoulder, probably less than two feet away from my ear. I could hear the air rushing along his feathers and I could see every detail of him. About three feet in front of my face he did one lazy flap of his wings and then he glided off to the horizon, disappearing as he cleared the trees.

Bald eagles don't do that. They don't like people, with good reason.

I had the presence of mind to hold myself in that still place, let the adrenaline feed the joy I had been feeling. I channeled the excitement, let it strengthen my prayer to the air, then water, then sun peeking shyly through the cloud.

I know I have been given something amazing. Maybe it was something big, maybe it was as simple as the message that life is surprising and wonderful, that life rewards those who are actively living.

And maybe it is just this - that twelve days later I can think on that moment and feel immense hope and joy in the rememberance, and that I can share this hope and joy with all who read this...