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Posts Tagged ‘deer’

Deer Woods, MagikMagik and I went into the woods before the day got hot and the workday got underway. Sometimes we play follow the leader, sometimes Magik follows me, today I followed Magik. He had a mission in mind, to find the crunchiest piece of bark in the forest to munch on.

We walked up one trail, down another. Earlier that morning I used a newly learned grounding technique. I ran cold water on my feet, then hot, then cold, then hot, then cold again. Walking, I felt much more connected to the earth, sure-footed.

Magik rounded the bend, I rounded the bend and to my delight I found a sleek black and white feather. A little further down the trail I found two owl feathers.

Magik hopped over and under fallen tree trunks. I followed until we got to Grandmother Oak tree with Bay Laurels for arms. I greeted Grandmother Oak, she greeted me. Magik took the opportunity to munch on bark, while I got settled. I took my crystals out and waved the feather over them and over me. I didn’t wave the feather over Magik in case he thought it was food.Deer Woods, feather I started to sing, checking in to my surroundings, finding my comfort. Mostly animals, not people visit this sacred place, so I felt comfortable to let go quickly.

When I sing, I can feel what emotions are hanging around in me, I can observe them and start to loosen them with sounds I make. Thoughts drop away and the raw feelings are exposed. I softened into sadness, a soulful sadness. When you sing sadness, you can stretch it and dive deep into it. You can be intimate with it, and you can witness it. You can sing on the outside of sadness and find joy there. You can sing sadness and joy, back and forth until you slip between into the liminal.

An Old One came to watch her. Perhaps she was an old Faerie Queen, or maybe she was the crone, or a Shamaness who came to just sit and be with the singer. Folds of eyelids closed over bright, keen, hawk eyes. White wisps of hair feathered her face. Her nose was strong, and determined like her character. Her lips flat and used to smiling a lot. She held her head with a soft majesty. Her presence filled the liminal with peace. Together the Old One and the singer sat waiting, listening deeper. The singer wasn’t sure what she was waiting for or listening to, but that didn’t matter, she surrendered to the peace.The singer sang, and the Old One listened. The singer sang cascading waterfalls, and silent moments. The singer played hide-n-seek with notes that darted around the trees and back again. Somewhere in the play the Old One disappeared and the singer opened her eyes. A deer was watching her. The singer sang tender, tender gentleness to the earth. She caressed the trees with butterfly kisses. Her voice echoed through the forest, leaping and skipping, and eager to play. The deer was still, so very still for the whole song. Nary an eyelash moved. The singer lowered her voice, still circling notes, making them rise with the wind and fall with the leaves. The deer moved closer, each step purposeful, eyes focused on the singer.

Deer Woods, deerThe singer finished her song, honoring the tree, the earth, and the deer. The deer watched the singer. Their eyes held a long moment. Then the deer walked away, raising legs over brush, one leg, two leg, three leg, four. It was rhythmic, almost like a deer march. The deer made its own sounds, singing short bursts of air. One breath, two breath, three breath, four. They walked away, down the hill, leaving the singer and Magik alone, sitting before Grandmother Oak with Bay Laurel trees for arms.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.
Photos © 2014 Vlatka and Theodore Herzberg

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©2012 Vlatka Herzberg

Sienna ran through the forest, deeper and deeper still, sprinting like a deer on the run. She felt the dampness of the mist cloak her, hiding her from the world she left behind. She bent over to catch her breath and noticed a gate, rusted, old, hanging onto its last hinge. Sienna shoved it and it creaked with complaints of being still for far too long. She tiptoed into this hallowed place, aware that she was not alone. Eyes were everywhere watching her. She was afraid to move in case she stepped on someone. “Who goes there?” Amidst the ferns and roots, Sienna saw a large face, moss-covered nose, fern hair, dark slit for one eye, an old tree trunk for the other, roots reaching out stretching, digging deep into earth, searching for light. “It’s I, Sienna.” she muttered. She closed her eyes part way so that she could see through the haze of lashes, soft vision, and then she saw him, or at least she thought it was a him. She caught her breath and hesitated. He smiled. “Fear not child of the forest. You are welcome here.”

Sienna looked around and saw more faces looking at her. “I have wandered into the woods many times, and have never found this place or seen you.” He Who Watches Without Being Seen laughed. “We are seen when we choose.”  “Why today?” Sienna asked. “Why not?” he smiled. “Have you seen the wind dance and the trees laugh?” he asked. “Only in this sanctuary, not in my world. People have forgotten how to dance with the wind and laugh with the trees.”  “Will you?” “Of course.” she said and instantly the wind twirled around her, taking her by the hand. They danced with a fervor, spinning wildly out of control, until Sienna fell to the ground laughing, and the trees laughed with her too.

He Who Watches rumbled with laughter. “What’s so funny?” asked Stone Face. Sienna stopped laughing and looked into Dry Creek. Shrouded by leaves, was a face, oh so smooth, delicate lines for eyes and nose, and a just so mouth, as though someone had brushed it on. “Life.” said Sienna. “Sometimes life is funny.” Stone Face blinked, blank. “Well I don’t think it’s funny. So many humans walk this way and all they see is hard rocks, wet water and lots of green. Seldom do they stop and see what isn’t seen.” “I’m doing it.” smiled Sienna. “Humph.” grumbled the stone. “I know that the stones talk, the wind sings and that when I walk through the forest I am seen.” said Sienna. “What does one person matter?” grumbled Stone Face. “I am not only one. There are many.” “Where?” asked Stone Face. “Here and there, and everywhere and that matters. Sienna smiled. “Humph.” A twig snapped. Stone Face froze.

Leaves rustled, a deer approached. Sienna turned and gazed deep into the deer’s eyes. The deer blinked and shape shifted into a tall woman with a gentle, deer like face, with large, black doe eyes, and soft, long deer like ears. She swept across the creek and gently laid her hand on Sienna’s shoulder. “You have heard our call, and have come.” “Of course.” said Sienna. “Shall we?” asked Deer Woman. “There is a whole Other World waiting to explore.” Sienna followed. Deer Woman guided  her towards a hollow tree trunk, and began to step into it. “Wait.” said Sienna. Deer Woman looked deep into Sienna. Her eyes moistened with tenderness. “See with more than your eyes.” she suggested. Sienna took a deep breath and let go of things needing to be the way she thought they ought to be, and then she really could see. “It’s a portal.” she exclaimed. Deer Woman nodded, extended her hand. Sienna took it gratefully. Together they stepped out of one world and into another.

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Yosemite, ©2010 Theodore Herzberg

Recently, Magik and I went to visit our favorite Madrone Tree. It’s near the umbrella like Oak that creates a canopy of shade. Behind it, and down the hill slightly from the Umbrella Oak is the Madrone. It’s young and vibrant, and every-time I nestle down into its roots and lean against it, the leaves dance and welcome me.

Under the dappled light of Madrone leaves I sang, feeling the light and warmth, the laughter and the joy of just being out here, and reveling in the smell of pungent earth. I sang until my heart was full and Magik started to growl, my faithful guard corgi. I turned to see who was there. It was a deer, listening to my song.

Deer often come to hear me sing, other animals too. I wonder if more of us sang in the woods, if it would draw more enchanting animal encounters.

Yesterday, Magik and I went to visit my husband Theodore at his job site. He is a general contractor and the house he is building overlooks a golf course. Throughout the building process there has been a deer family that sleeps in the yard. Yesterday was the first time I saw them, a mamma and her two babies, nestled in the foundation of where there one day will be a pool.

The mother deer cleaned the older baby, the older baby licked her back, mamma and babe nuzzled, while the young one spotted me. I started to sing softly. The baby deer walked a little closer, her black eyes focused intensely on my face. I continued to sing, soft and sweet, baby deer and I held eyes for a very long time — an enchanting moment, a touch, the song luring the baby deer closer and closer.

I must have lifted my voice a little louder, and the wind carried it down to the golf course, because from way down below I heard, “Hey lady, stop singing.” And then the sound of a golf ball being hit. Mental note, will have to keep the “deer songs” in the woods and not near golf courses.

I stopped singing, turned to walk away, but turned and looked back. The baby deer turned and looked back too. Our eyes held for a moment. A connection was made. As we each walked in our separate directions I wondered how our lives might be different because of our touch.

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