Saturdays

Saturdays I revel in the early mornings.....my husband still asleep, the cats and dogs drowsing around my feet. There is a feel to these early mornings that is mine alone. I am almost possessive of these times. I can sit and think....planning the magickal herb garden of my back yard. There are notes to be written, art pieces I wish to make and just quiet moments of contemplation. I study during these times or come up with a new beading project. In Spring and Summer I sit with the window open and let the Virginia Zephyrs breeze through cleansing my home. The early morning light will hit the glass bottles, shimmering through the room and painting the walls in blues, greens and yellows. These are the moments of life that have profound yet unspoken meaning.....something so simple as stained glass in sunlight on an early Saturday morning.

Midnight Rose

Onyx

against pale skin

she

glows

into the room

gold chain shackled

to ivory ankle

Wrapped in darkness

it is her design

diamonds on black velvet

she

purrs

She

is her own creation

Grab her

you clutch thorns

She

alone

is in control

Slight turn

her head tilts

A whisper...

m e l t i n g

she turns to go

"Midnight..."

Dreaming

Dreaming

Sandalwood scent

and candle wax

swirls in dream wisps

of warm promise

mysteries

enchantments

from times long past

Savoring sherry

and a good book

with the close intimacy

of the evening

Rustling of robes

on cobblestones

I thought I heard...

drawing drowsily awake

with the sudden rush of Autumn winds

whipping the pages

bourne through time

I fly with the leaves

in the deep night

clinging like Summer incense

on everything I touch

just a

faint

scent

as I raise my head

from the book

where I've been sleeping

Each grain of sand drops down. I look to the stars and see they are there ...constant...grasses green going golden in the heat of days. Like the grasses I, too, am parched and growing brittle with time.

Breezes turn to blasting winds, pulling up the grains of sand and wearing everything smooth and hazy in my soul. Cycles of wind and rain and brutal sun paint my days in canyon colors. Wearing down the harshness and wild insolance of my youth to a deep, mellow humour.

Something in the dark of the cave beckoned me, and yet I was frightened. I couldn't go yet; couldn't plunge into the cool depths escaping the blazing sun of late spring. Going below ground is a sacred thing for a Druid. You are travelling to the land of the Underworld and all the blessed dead. It is a trip not taken lightly, for if you emerge you are returned to the living world forever changed.

It wasn't what was in the cave that struck me with fear. It was myself and the doubts ... unworthiness. I have learned wisdom and abused power all in the name of love and passions that drove me nearly mad. Power is returning now and I am afraid of not it, but myself. Barren of it by choice for so many years, I come back to the world of true magick and find myself more a novice than the sorceress I was.

Be careful what you wish for...holding crystal to the moon...I realise my time has come. There is no death only cycles moving into the next phases of our eternal lives. Childlike, I will take my offerings and enter the cave.

You Do Not

You do not know me

You suppose

guess

conjure

judge

and assume

but....

you

do not know

me

You never asked me

about my

deepest loves

my passions

or the greatest tragedies of my life

You know my face

my laugh

my smile

my scowl and my anger

but

you

do not know

me

Me

as I am in the moments

such as now

Me

when I muse

silently

quietly pushing aside cobwebs

to peek at memories

of the past

what I have seen

and known

Who I am

I have kept to myself

and share

with the dead

whose tongues

are

silent

(Only a few really know me...the rest see what I want them to see.)

Sea Birds

Pure essence and emotion

portrayed in dances of the secret heart

and the rolling waves

She flies the music

gently

lifting to soar up

cascading down

outstretched

Pulling away from

the approaching crags

with precision timing

Seabirds dance with the approaching storm

The Rock Photos

Basalt Bomb approximately 12" in diameter Soda Lakes, Fallon, Nevada - Obvious Volcano Crater
Picture Stone or Wonder Stone
Large Agates

Adventures in the Desert

After a delightful Friday night of chills, stomach cramps and other nicities, I woke up Saturday morning feeling pretty much back to normal.

Tony and I took the truck out in search of Soda Lakes. They are two small, younger volcanoes that are filled with water (currently...with all our seismic activity...who knows?!) We arrived around 1 and were greeted by a variety of desert flowers, bees and horseflies. The view from the rim is intersting as you can see that you are standing above a caldera. We collected basalt bombs and also found some small chips of agate. Some of the basalt bombs from this area are said to contain olivine and magantite (lodestone). We did find some of the bombs had crystals in the sides. I found a really large bomb about the size of a cantaloupe. It is going in a special spot in the rock garden.

Aferwards, we made out way out past Grimes Point and over to the old, Lake Lahontan dry shores. Out there we found wonderstone and quartz, as well as lava and tufa. We also found a very large patch of agate.

It was fun to watch the fence lizards and horny toads. There were some interesting small birds out there, too. I would have loved to have had a field guide to find out what they were. We stayed out there until 6 and lazily made our way home.

There were a few people staying at the Petrogylphs. We passed by the Hidden Caves, but didn't stop. That will be for another trip. You can see them from the road. The large one has an almost ominous look to it, but that could well be due to the stories of it being haunted. When we do go, I'll make sure I leave some sage and cedar bundles for the Indian spirits, maybe some beads, too.

Today we will unload the rocks from the truck and see what we have. I'll probably sit out with a scrub brush and water and clean off many of them. There is a serenity in rockhounding that I love, even if it is a little insecty sometimes. I am always amazed at the beauty Mother Nature creates...now that's one artistic palette!

Next weekend I am planning on buying a couple of plants to start the garden. A little at a time is how I will build it.

I'll post the photos of the rocks later today.

Doing Better

Still dancing....I step on my own feet less often now.

Where My Mind Has Been

Copyright 2008 So, this is the tee shirt design that I created. It's actually my nightshirt. I have been creating again...which is wonderful...however, again the hermitting. I am almost ridiculously jealous of my down-time and privacy. I have forced myself to functions and affairs...pulling away from artwork and garden (still in the works stage). Solitude is something I cannot get enough of. Ahhhh, sacred space. I wrap it around my like a dark shroud within the caves in the desert. I am no longer certain that the emotional scars are hidden. I am no longer sure that I even care.

At 50, I find myself walking in the wind. My hair is uncurled, undone. My face is devoid of make-up, showing the wrinkles and lines of far too much (and also too little). I look at past lives, lovers, and find them angels and demons...but never both. They whisper past me in the wind....tiny wails of the names, places and dates....warm winds in the middle of the night when I walked a garden and tended my roses. They haunt me on these desolate shores, floating and diving about as illusive as incense smoke. No ocean, but a lakeshore...water all the same. Water that calls me back as the mother and lover. I leave them behind me with the sand and the cry of the crow and loons. I can smile at these ghosts. I am comfortable in this body, despite the ravages of age and abuse. It's finally an old friend.

This is not being lonely or sad. This is where I am now....reflecting and gaining warmth in the afternoon sun.

Ah, Dragon, good to see you again. We've always had that knack of coming back from our battles and picking up in the same old way. We've done this for centuries...almost two millenium. I felt you in my head this morning like sunshine on my back after a long winter. It made me glad and wish we were closer...although, I suppose, we never really were apart.

Again, I vow, to write more often. I've no reason not to, I suppose. Notes on tumbleweeds.