Crows and Flowers
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Passion to the Third Degree.
Iâ€™ve noticed, for the past few weeks, that there are crows everywhere. When I ran an errand at lunch to Ace Hardware, I saw probably a dozen flying around Merchantsâ€™ Walk. I noticed this before, a few times, but usually going in a particular direction, toward a particular building or car or away from a particular building. Odd. Iâ€™m not sure what the migratory patterns are for crows, just that there are suddenly oodles of them.
Crows have always been a special sign between my Goddess and me. Theyâ€™re always a sign to tell me to pay attention. Other times, they appear when Iâ€™m in despair and the message is usually that things are as theyâ€™re supposed to be right now or that things are happening behind the scenes and Iâ€™ll know soon enough. As though they watch between the worlds, seeing things I canâ€™t, and telling me to either watch for certain things or not to worry that I canâ€™t see those things right now.
Itâ€™s reassuring to see them.
I wonder, too, if itâ€™s connected with last nightâ€™s meditation. I had hardly closed my eyes, let alone begun the meditative process, when I was seeing gardens. Not my garden, though. And yes, Iâ€™d been planting flowers hours before, but these werenâ€™t the same flowers and not the same garden. Yet quite beautiful and filled with bright pink…I think…spider lilies? Iâ€™m not certain thatâ€™s the flower but it was exotic, delicate, beautiful.
I had the sense that while I was sharing my new gardens with others, someone was trying to share a garden with me. The meditation was particularly vivid, unlike any I normally have because I could open my eyes and when I closed them, the garden was right there again, as detailed as if I were looking directly at it in my own back yard. It took several minutes for it to fade and my normal meditation to begin.
Itâ€™s a garden Iâ€™d love to visit with my bare feet.