The Shaman's Garden

The young prince of Bush Turkeys is building a luscious, leafy mound beside the garden steps which lead from the road to the house.  He began this monumental task last Tuesday, and has been going ever since.  His first choice of location was on my front path.  He came and got me and showed me his fine work, and I told him it wasn’t very protected there, and showed him a spot on the front embankment, protected by trees and elevated to allow water to run off.  He must’ve liked the idea, because he moved his project up there.  Every now and then, on a daily basis, he will make some noise around the front verandah, and when I go out he runs to the nest to show me.  I tell him it is beautiful, and he puffs out his wattle and runs off.

Yesterday, I was sitting on the steps watching him work on the nest, when his chosen female came in for a look at the proceedings, her wings held out like a cloak.  He immediately prostrated himself on the ground.  Then got up and kept digging a hole in the centre of the mound.  When the female came onto the building site again, he would lie down flat in the nest, wings outstretched, covering the hole.  He was so still, yet I could see him quivering.  She went closer, digging around, her wings and feathers puffed up.  Suddenly, he leapt up, but she was too quick for him and, in a flurry of feathers, got away.

The young prince kept going at the mound, making it bigger and bigger.  Then, the beautiful female came over to where I was sitting on the garden steps, and laid down beside me.  The prince jumped on top of her, holding her wattle in his beak.  He wiggled about a bit, then jumped off and kept going with the nest.

I thought it was a lot of trouble to go to for a few eggs, but then I read that the female can lay up to fifteen!  I was also a little jealous.  No man has ever gone to that much trouble to woo me!!  Perhaps I’ve always given in too easily, and he hasn’t had to go out of his way for me.  I think I’m learning a lot from these Bush Turkeys.  Whenever the chosen female comes near, the male lies down.  She goes away, he gets up - always keeping an eye out for her, and lying down if she comes within sight.  The male does all of the work, as he is also the one to guard the nest.  It’s amazing, and truly awe inspiring to be this close to nature in all its glory.

However, the Bush Turkeys aren’t the only ones courting.  The Goannas (Lace Monitor Lizards) have been having their honeymoon on the roof of my back verandah, which I can see from the window in the loft.  They spent a couple of weeks up there last year!   When she's had too much, the female sometimes gets away by herself –inside my ceiling!  The male is too large, and can’t get in, so she's alone.  For a while, she was in the wall cavity above the bedroom window, and, at night, I could hear her breathing.  It was quite lovely.

The first time she crawled into my ceiling, the male came looking for her through the back door. I went out to talk to him –such a beautiful creature –and told him that his girl wasn't inside the house.  He went off, down the vine-covered post, and into the ferns.  After a few days to a week of solitude, the beautiful female emerges, and he takes her - many times!  Between sessions of sexual activity, they lie in the breeze on the roof, touching each other.  It is a beautiful sight, and I once again thank God and the Sacred Mother for all that I am witness to in this place.

I realised the other day that my house is a great metaphor for my own process.  It is set down from the road, under a great canopy of trees, palms and dracaenas.  The inside of the house is dark, but when one exits the back door onto the verandah, they come out into the light, with views into the distant mountains.  I too have gone down into the Underworld, and spent much time in the darkness, to emerge into the Light.  And now, my view of the world is much greater, and from a higher aspect, than before going into the darkness.  I am Shaman, and my Divine Purpose is to keep working in the dark, in order to help bring all in the darkness into the Light.

Love and Light,
  xxx

The Bush Turkey & The Bandicoot

We don’t often get to see Bandicoots, because they are, after all, nocturnal creatures.  Yet, here I am, at half past midday, watching the matriarch of the Bush Turkeys and the tailless Bandicoot sharing oats just outside my kitchen.  There are two Bandicoots - one with its tail, and one who must’ve had an encounter with the Farmer’s Wife.  They eat at different times, as Bandicoots travel solo.  That is, unless they’re travelling with their feathered friends.

I go out and throw some more oats around for them, and the Bandicoot, which used to hop away, terrified by my presence, doesn’t even flinch.  I watch him eating and just the sight of his little mouth chewing the oats fills me with such love that I can’t contain it!!  My heart is overflowing, and I thank God for these wonderful visitors who have changed their way of living in the world, just as I have.

Looking out the kitchen window, I spot another Bush Turkey coming to check out the little creature who just shouldn’t be here on her watch.  She struts, spreads her tail feathers and, backing up to the Bandicoot, throws sand all over him with her strong feet.  The Bandicoot is quite unconcerned, as his new friend, the matriarch, chases her away, and resumes her meal, side by side with her friend.  The other turkey comes back for another look, but the matriarch just chases her away again and again.  She is not only completely unfazed by the little fellow’s presence, but is protective of him as well.

Their behaviour fills me with awe, and shows me, once again, that we can all get on with each other with just a little tolerance and acceptance of each other’s differences.  I am truly blessed to be living in this state of Love.

Love and Light
  xxx

Bush Turkeys, Cockroaches, and Other Friends

I was awakened this morning by what I knew was a bush turkey throwing things around my front verandah, in order to get my attention.  I knew which one of the nine daily visitors it was, so I jumped into my uggies and went out before anything was broken!  There she was, all smug and self-satisfied, but at the same time pretending to be innocent, as she stood beside two overturned clay pots she'd been rolling around.  I gave her some leftover cooked brown rice –the early bird gets the rice (or the oats).  Once all the others realised something was going down, they descended from the She-Oak, pushed through the paling fence from next door (where they are not welcome), and came running along the footpath from their early morning scratchings in other people's gardens.

One of the younger turkeys likes to eat the oats I give them straight out of the cup, as I hold it for her.  The others aren't as brave –she's the Jonathan Livingston of the group!  If the door is open and she can see me, she'll scratch the verandah and stare at it, then look at me, as if to say, "There's nothing there!"  Sometimes, though, she just likes me talking to her, and she'll make little clacking noises back, peering sideways at me out of one eye, head slightly cocked.

I've had my entire front garden rearranged, and had to move some pots to the back verandah (which is blocked by a gate), so they couldn't dig out the soil.  I even put rocks on top of one pot, and the turkey who likes to roll pots around threw all of the rocks out –just because I wouldn't come out and feed her –the more noise the better!  As soon as I came out, she stood beside her work, looking very pleased with herself.  And I thought these birds were dumb... But that's the trouble with humans –we see ourselves as so much more intelligent and advanced than all of the other creatures who inhabit the earth.  And then we wake up from that dream, and realise that we're really not!

Even the humble cockroach is capable of understanding us, yet how many of us can understand them?  I was watching television one night, when a large brown cockroach scurried across the floor in front of me.  It was about the same colour as the floorboards, so the movement gave me a fright, and I gasped.  The cockroach ran, so I apologised for giving it a fright, and said hello.  It stopped, turned around and came to stand in front of me, antennae twitching, like an enchanted creature in an animated film, and listened as I spoke to it.  Later that night, I met it again in the bathroom, and it stood by the basin and watched as I cleaned my teeth and washed my face.  We had a little chat about the role of a Bodhisattva, and it just knew I wasn't going to harm it.

A couple of nights later, I found it on its back in the kitchen, and thought it was dead.  I picked the poor little thing up in a paper towel, and it came out of its coma (probably had too much to eat, as I hadn't done the washing up!) and held onto my finger with its front foot.  I put a drop of water on my fingernail and offered it, and the cockroach held onto my finger and drank the water from my nail.  I gave it a few more drinks, then took it back into the bathroom, scrunched up the paper towel, and gently popped the cockroach on top.  When I went back into the bathroom later that night, it was lying on its side, snuggled into the paper towel, with the most happy expression throughout its whole being.  Before that, I didn't know that cockroaches had emotions, but, in that moment, I realised the significance of working towards Enlightenment in order to raise the consciousness of all sentient beings –and that that included cockroaches!

Several years ago, when my dogs were still alive, I had a similar experience with a cricket.  It was lying on the floor, and I picked it up to throw it into the garden, but realised it was just dehydrated.  I put some water in a little plastic spoon, and offered it to the cricket. It sat on the end of my thumb, drinking from the spoon.  I almost swooned, my heart was so filled with love!!!  I put some sand and leaf litter in a shallow dish and put in one spoon with crushed dog biscuits and another with water.  I popped the cricket into its new home, and, later, saw it was eating the biscuit crumbs.  So happy!

Within a couple of days, there were about seven crickets in the house, eating and drinking, and singing up a storm.  I could hardly sleep for the high-pitched singing all night long, but I was so happy.  Lily and Winnie were as curious as I, and didn't seem to mind the singing either.  Eventually, the crickets all went on their way, and we had the house to ourselves, until the geckos moved in.  But that's another story...

Love and Light
  xxx