Robins

               A flock of robins is living around the house this winter.  They eat juniper berries and drink water we put out for them.  I can’t imagine there is much else out here to live on.  Back east they hop around on mowed lawns listening for earthworms.  When they hear one, it’s just like the pictures: They pull the long, stretchy goody out of the ground and swallow it in a couple of gulps.  Here, they walk back and forth in search of berries.  They flutter in the trees, making their winter-time chirping calls.   They like to hang out on the roof, toenails scratching on the skylights.  Hearing tapping and scratching yesterday morning, I looked up and saw one standing in the middle of the skylight looking at me. 

               Sometimes I forget my rule to pay attention to animals that are being obvious.  I know they have reasons for being around that have nothing to do with me, but all things are harmonious between the spirit world and the physical.  If there is something Creator wants to say to me, the two can come together.  Sometimes I’m too lazy or distracted to notice these gifts.  Fortunately, they keep on trying.

               I decided I’d better ask the spirits if there was something they wanted to tell me with all these robins.  When I got quiet and listened, I felt an immediate sense of fun and ease.  “Lighten up, it’s OK!”  My default setting is pretty much the opposite of that, and the spirits keep giving me reality checks.  The best thing about these messages is that they come in on an emotional channel rather than a mental one.   This means I get to actually experience a different feeling instead of filtering it down through my head and then working to convince myself. 

Thank you spirits, thank you beautiful animal messengers.  I try to give back with water, gratitude and blessing during dawn ceremony.

"There are, it may be, so many kinds of voices in the world, and none of them are without significance."  (1st Corinthians)