Look at the surprise Michael had waiting for him when outside today? Luckily the old spare was in good condition (and it actually a full sized tire too.) Still not fun of course, but he changed it and is at work now.

The weather is still beautiful, but today is probably the last day of that till the middle of next week. We need the rain though. I went ahead and planted some leaf lettuce outside. As long as we don’t go below 28F it should be okay, and if not, I still have a million little seeds. I also started some basil seeds inside.

Speaking of plants, these little things started sprouting by our garage a couple weeks ago. They are on the north side of the garage (shade) and have tuberous roots. I know it is a little early to identify plants, but do these look familiar? I am in zone 5a. I hope they are pretty, right now I am just happy to see something new and green!

The soul has wings that bring it forth into the wonder we know as Life, it comes to us from the Sommerlands, from Heaven, from the Unknown. In this state of Life, it can laugh, cry, awaken, mourn, create, frustrate, hope… love. Maybe sometimes the soul isn’t always ready for these wonders, it can be pretty overwhelming to be born, (or reborn) but when does choose to come forth into our marvelous, tumultuous, inspiring little world it is a truly amazing experience. I know this because I have given birth and I knew the moment I looked into Damian’s eyes that his radiant soul knew it too. Who knew one tiny blue speck in the vastness of the universe could harbor such amazing potential?

Life, as we known it, begins and ends, what comes before or after is a mystery to most. I know the soul exists, the evidence is in my dreams, Damian’s soul came to me on wings. I accept that come people don’t agree, some people see my evidence as simple faith but my faith makes all things possible. I definitely believe in the divine, maybe not a single omnipotent being, but I believe that there are sacred forces out there that are worthy of my respect.

To me Life is most certainly only one side of a coin, the Mystery is the other. Death (and Birth) I suppose is that thin edge connecting the two. It is a turning point, a veil, obscuring the great beyond. Many of us feel apprehension as we look at Death (and as we wait for a Birth too.) Why, do we fear the Mystery? To people of faith, we might feel an understanding of the Mystery, but even we see the transition as daunting and sometimes terrifying, both to watch and experience.

Everything must eventually die. From the body the soul takes flight once more back into the Mystery, into the embracing, welcoming and joyous light of the divine. For some, the ancestors who have not yet returned to Life will be there to greet them under the golden apple trees of the Sommerlands, for others all their loved ones in Heaven as well as God will be there with open arms. I know those I love and who have crossed over look back at us and smile. They send their love and check in from time to time.

Birth is a celebration, the midwifing a beautiful soul into our world. It is a mysterious and wondrous transition. Death is also mysterious but should it be celebrated? Sometimes the dieing are fortunate enough to be comforted, to be midwifed back into the Mystery, surrounded by those who love them. We hold varying degrees of rituals and celebrations for those who pass on. I do think some kind of farewell is necessary, if only to bring comfort to our own souls.

I had a dream last night, and echo of one I had when I was a few months pregnant, when I condor brought me Damian’s soul. I watched the condor as it lead a shinning flying soul into the starlit sky and the light of that soul grew as it rose, a blazing lantern at first, then a radiant sun, then an all colorful shifting blue and gold light, the aura that which faded into a streaking shooting star passing over the horizon of our Wild Old Mama Earth.

I knew I had to share the dream when I woke up, so here we are at the end of my post. I am a bit lacking for some form of eloquent conclusion so I will share I little Eskimo legend I heard once that seems strangely fitting with that dream.

On the darkest nights, near the stairway from Earth to the Sky (the constellation we know as Orion,) the ancestors come out to dance. The stars are the lights around their dance floor and they are the Gulla, the aura. They are letting us know that they are happy.

I am a creature possessed by an overwhelming sense of curiosity, for which I hope some cosmic force has gifted me with 9 lives, because I am certain one day it will get me in serious trouble. I simply cannot stand not knowing some things. Gossip and rumor are pointless to me, I am not curious like that. I am curious to the point I need facts as well as being able to see it with my own eyes.

My Aunt Ruth posted the above picture in her blog today and to my great dismay she did not open that suitcase. I understand, of course, that not everyone shares my reckless sense of curiosity but that suitcase has been on my mind for a couple hours now, so much so that I wrote about it, simply to get it off of my mind. Apparently when you are distracted with such a consuming question as “what the heck was in it!?” you do such follies like putting a casserole in the oven to bake and forget to turn on said oven. (Though in the grand scheme of things that is much better then putting something in the oven and forgetting to set the timer.)

The following little prose normally stay well confined to my handwritten journal as I am no great author or poet. If anything it is simply my way of putting such demanding and yet unanswerable questions out of my head. Still, this once I thought I would share this little piece of my personality with you.

I am walking along a river trail, listening to the chorus of birds returning from their Winter abodes. It is a glorious Spring morning, one of those that makes you feel as though each step is a prayer being sent straight to the heart of Gaia.

Squirrels scamper across the trail, some pausing to decide how great of a threat I pose. Once deciding I am simply a harmless waddling pregnant woman they saunter along their way. Twigs and gravel crunch softly beneath my feet, which ache a little, late pregnancy seems to have that effect on all regions of my body. I am walking beside a stone wall, overgrown with a wide variety of weeds who seem to wave at me in the breeze. Springtime brings a playful air to everything.

In my daydreaming state, I almost missed it but something so out of the ordinary has a way of reigning in one’s attention as surely as if it were sounding Assembly of Buglers. There, at the side of the trail beside an old drainage pipe sat a suitcase, looking as though it had been very purposely placed there.

The old peeling leather case teased at my curiosity and I felt like a cat as I stood there mentally sparing with the out of place object. It’s lure had firmly snagged me though and I wandering over to it, looking around to make sure no one was near to witness my approach. Somehow curiosity has a way of making me feel like a common thief.

I sat on the rock ledge beside the suitcase and observed it. It in turn, continued to tease me with its simple mystery. I watched it for couple minutes, gauging whether it was dangerous or not I suppose. There was no odd smell or unidentifiable liquids oozing from it, which mostly ruled out me wandering into a bad CSI show, nor was it ticking (do bombs even do that anymore?) which reassured me that I wasn’t about to test the nine lives theory.

Still, erring on the side of caution (pregnancy has this effect on me) I picked up a stick and did what any 3 or 30 year old would do. I held my breath and poked the suitcase. (I think the birds may have even been holding their breath.)

A sudden rush of adrenaline flowed into me and I tensed up, waiting for… well waiting for something that never came. The suitcase rocked a little before settling back to its mocking self. Feeling encouraged by the non-reaction, I poked it again, harder. Still nothing.

Mustering my courage (or simply giving into my curiosity) I nudged it with my foot. It fell on its side with a dull thud, which admittedly made me jump a little. My hands shook as I reached down to unlatch the lid and I paused for a millisecond before quickly flipping it back. I flinched back a little, perhaps I expected a hoard of wasps to explode out of it. Nothing like that happened though.

I started blankly into the suitcase for a moment before beginning to laugh uncontrollably. With a grin on my face I latched it shut once again and set it back in its place so that it could again cast its lure out to the next curious soul who meandered past. With that done I dusted myself off and continued down the trail, amused and overly-satisfied in my discovery.

So, what do you think I found in the suitcase?

My Aunt went back to see if the suitcase was still there. It was open…