Guiding Symbol: Starling

"I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings." - Mary Oliver

And did you see that improbable beautiful sunrise this morning?!?!?!
 

I've entered into 2020 feeling lost. I couldn't even find my guiding symbols (I use symbols instead of words) so I carried Lady Elen and Justitia from last year with me, and I think, in some way, they will always be. BUT...over the last several days my car has been swooped by a murmuration of starlings several times. Without forethought I began adding murmuration images throughout my planner / journal, simply because I love them. Then the other day there was a starling in my feeder so, I decided to make Starling my guiding symbol for 2020.

I have no idea what this year will bring, and I'm still feeling lost and scared, but I hope Starling will lead the way.

Starling:
- travel together (birds of a feather)
- strength, unity, freedom
- art & nuance of communication (clear, expressive)*
- group etiquette
- accomplishes tasks
- sensitivity to others
- protection & hope
*They have a complex and uniquely human component to their language, and can recognize other individuals by their voice. They can mimic songs.
http://www-news.uchicago.edu/releas…/…/060426.starling.shtml

Murmuration:
- takes place in the liminal space of dusk / twilight.
- cohesive, unity, togetherness
- forming larger image to baffle predators, shape shifter
- survival instinct, practical, purposeful
- magical coordination
Photo: transfer print from the exquisite Lost Words Spell Book. Later altered with little gold stars on the heart center of each bird.

Mother-tongue

“Speak to me in the language of Moss and Stone:
The brook and fox-den know well my Mother-tongue. “

- Tom Hirons (Merrivale, Falconer’s Joy)

I awoke to a weather alert of dense fog. After my son left to school, I went down to the lake to take photos. As I sat there at dock, there was a fisherman launching his boat and a kayaker returning from an early paddle. I wonder how they are able to navigate this veil. This fog feels like a metaphor for the way I feel, how I can only see what is directly in front of me so I must move forward slowly because I can't see where I'm going. I wondered what it was like paddling around the lake in all that fog, but in a way I think I already know.

This morning I received an email from the Forest Therapy Guide admissions coordinator. I'm going to apply for a full scholarship. I have no idea how I will pull it off if I get it, but I trust I will figure it out. Leap and the net will appear is what John Burroughs said. He was a naturalist too.

We Were Together

"We were together. I forget the rest." - Walt Whitman

Robert's nephew who lives in Arlington stopped by on Saturday morning with his wife and toddler. We don't see them often so it was good for the soul.

On Sunday we took a hike with Kathi, then spent an hour fishing at the lake, joined by Silvia and her boys. I added a few images to my planner while we sat on the shore watching the boys. My son and I don't take these moments for granted, we treasure them for the gifts that they are as it so often feels lonely here while we find our new way of being.

Early this morning, after Satch went to school, I added some of my dreams to my planner. I am hoping that in spite of our tragedy, I may be able to find a way to make it all happen. For instance...
I dream of hosting Mighty Girl Art at Peetwood Pavillion at Blandy. I took a photo of it from afar so I can hold the image in my mind and heart. I made a transfer print to the August calendar page.
I dream of getting certified as a Forest & Nature therapy Guide. There is an intensive in NY in June, if I can get a scholarship then I wish to attend. Then I can complete the practicum at home in my spare time.

I dream of training to be on FEMA's community emergency response team so subscribed for updates.
I dream of moonlight hikes, and bonfires. I dream of seeing fox again, and more often. I dream of hearing coyote yips with my own ears, and of growing paw paw in the understory. I dream of the return of our Bessie Coleman Hummingbird, and exploring the lake in our yaks. I dream of a community kids hike, and events for our kids in general, something connected with this special place we call home, something that rings true with the name and mission of Rachel Carson.

Being in limbo is hard. It makes me anxious. I'm a creature who craves balance and rhythm, with just a sprinkle of spontaneity to keep it magical.

Watching the boys running back from the lake reminded my of one of my son's favorite storybooks...Roxaboxen.

First Shenandoah Snow

Trees glitter like castles
of ribbons, the broad fields
smolder with light, a passing
creekbed lies
heaped with shining hills;
and though the questions
that have assailed us all day
remain–not a single
answer has been found–
walking out now
into the silence and the light
under the trees,
and through the fields,
feels like one.
- Mary Oliver, excerpt from First Snow

Yesterday was nothing short of magical and splendid and another buoy for my spirit that lifted me momentarily above grief and fear.

Those moments on the hill, soaking in the laughter of our children as they took flight in their sleds - the crunch under my boots, the feathered air in my lungs as I walk over the land bridge to photograph the pink clouds above the lake, and the glorious trees in their white robes.

My son made mugs of hot cocoa, and poured mine into my favorite mug, the one with the owl. I scooped up the clean, fresh snow to make “snow cones”, one of our winter traditions. 8 heaping cups of snow, 1 tsp vanilla, 14 oz condensed milk, mixed thoroughly and scooped into cones.

I need to find my balloons to distribute to all the children for which to make ice lanterns. Where did I put them? I used to leave them in a basket on my front porch for the taking and making.
Today we wander out again for more playful wintry shenanigans. I think I’ll make some homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese for lunch today.