Yesterday, I completed the building and planting of the five gardens that surround the house. As I sat on the back deck enjoying a post-gardening snack and a beer, a Raven flew past. It landed, beak full of some small animal, in the bird bath I have set up in the back yard by the fire pit. The Raven and its partner took turns at their meal and when I was pretty certain that they were finished and would not be returning, I went out to clean the birth bath. I expected to find a huge mess of discarded carcass, but should have known better. All that floated in the water were three small feathers.
It began to rain soon afterward, and I was not unaware of the blessings of rain upon a ceremony. Somehow the pagan sacrifice performed by the Ravens seemed to be a statement of their comfort in the space I have created. The rains and the double rainbow that followed them substantiated my feeling.
This morning, I sat in meditation on the front porch as the softest of mists fell to caress the Earth and the plants upon it. There was no sound of the mists falling, only the songs of five different birds, three of which I am sure I know. Every now and then the breezes would waft through the stillness and rustle the leaves of the Japanese Maple tree that grows just off the front porch. The blood red leaves would shiver slightly and the moisture gathered upon them would fall in drops upon the leaves below them. A few seconds of the sound of rain, and then all would return to the misty silence.
My eyes closed, I heard a Robin singing and it sounded increasingly loud until it was loud enough to cause me to open my eyes. There, on the railing of the porch, sat the Robin looking directly at me as it sang its sweet song. I wish I knew what it was saying as it kept me entranced for quite a few minutes. I have decided that it had come to thank me for turning the turf grass wasteland that surrounded the house in to a haven for the birds, bees, and those who crawl on and in the Earth to make it healthy.
It is my haven as well. There are times, like this morning, when I am sure that I could melt in to it and, like the mists that fall, become a part of That which is so much bigger, stronger, and much more marvelous than I can ever hope to be.