CHANGING RAYS

September's light changes the look of everything...the rays slant from a lower perspective and cast longer shadows with brighter hues of yellow and orange right at the time when the colors of the leaves begin to move through their changes in preparation for winter. I'm noticing, as the light changes, perspective changes...as it does for one individual standing on the threshold of the winter of her life. But just now...I feel lit up. There has been a male hummingbird feeding at our feeder...and I thought they had all left. It's September 12th. One year ago today, as my mother crossed the street on her way home from Steve's Market, she fell flat on her face. She had been working right up until her fall...two days a week at the Witch House in Salem. She managed to pull through a brain bleed that left her with some significant brain damage and has changed her life...she now needs 24/7 supervision. I am deeply grateful to my sister who moved in with her and has risen to the need with grace and humor...though I have moments of fear that she has given up too much to support my mother. But the heart will do what it must...and timing is not something I can control. For some reason, the hummers are enjoying a longer stay here in the North...and there is still growth in the garden despite the recent frost advisories. Today I celebrate the womanly strength of my mother and my sister. They amaze me and I feel proud to be one of them. It is the girls...the female hummingbirds who stay behind with the children to feed themselves and strengthen themselves for the long journey back to Central and South America. They males leave first. They don't have a choice. It's written in their crystals...the tiny navigating crystal that is in their brain, that is programmed with their journey map and their deepest instincts that preside over the choices that they make.

On Labor Day, Stephen and I took a motorcycle ride to "Wrinkle In Thyme Farm" to explore the possibility of raising our own lamb for food and fiber. For me, the motorcycle is a challenge to drop my fear and allow the wild and free wind to blow my hair, to ride under the open sky...to be brave and trust
that what will be...will be. I choose to take this risk...this day and I choose to accept the consequences whatever they may be. It is a form of meditation...to let go...to trust Stephen...to love the wild ride. At 4:30 pm we were riding home. So was our friend Raymond.

The wild can be anything I guess. It doesn't have to be out of the forests or the skys. I think anything that happens out of the blue is a manifestation of the wild in my life...like the sudden spotting of an eagle riding the air currents above the lake. You never expect an encounter with the wild...it stalks you.
At 4:30 on Labor Day, Raymond crashed his brand new motorcycle as he headed home from a ride to Erroll. We learned of the details from John, who was riding just ahead of him and saw the event unfold in his rearview mirror. The crash was treated as a fatal accident. Meanwhile, Raymond had sustained some significant head injuries after being thrown 100 feet or more...and his leg was broken and a shoulder was dislocated. Ray was still on lifesupport last Weds. evening when we talked to John....and medical procedures for his other injuries were on hold until he could breathe on his own. We learned last night that the family had met around the life support issue and a decision had been made to take Ray off lifesupport. In other words...the family put their trust in Raymond to make his own decision. If it is his time to go...let it be. If it is his time to seize the day and face the long journey to recovery...well so be it. Today...in my wild heart, I ran on my treadmill for Raymond. I find when I dedicate my workout to something greater than myself...I am better at fulfilling my promise. Running with Raymond...today, he and his family and all of us who love him...all are in my prayers. I usually put rock and roll on my Pandora Radio for my workout. The music...the beat...the rhythm lightens my feet and I run with a lighter heart. As I hit my 25 minute threshold, my old friend Brad Delp and his band Boston are singing..".I understand about indecision..."and tears spring to my eyes as I experience a sense of Raymond's indecision at this moment of his life...suspended with a life/death decision on his plate. I don't know what is acually happening, but in my heart I am with him and I am for him...what ever his decision may be. And as I slow down my pace for the last 5 minutes, I am listening to "Knocking On Heaven's Door". Why that song? Why now? A bubble of grief passes through my entire being as I let go. The tears flow. The ache in my heart is speaking to me. What is my story of Raymond?

I met Raymond at The Grizzley when we first moved to Bethel. He is warm and easy to talk to. His short stature made hugging an adventure and we became hugging buddies. I think every time I saw Raymond, I got a big bear hug, or gave one. He told me the story of how an eagle tried to grab his pony tail as he rode his motorcycle in Canada. The image of Raymond riding the motorcycle with an eagle on his back never once left my imagination and it was there when Stephen told me of the Great Blue touching his head with a flap of one wing as he rode his motorcycle just after his heart surgery..this is the magic of the wild...the wild medicine that touches a soul and brings life in...wild free life. Raymond had that kind of life and he had a joy that he shared wherever he went. Raymond made our floors shine and laid our magic carpet in our new bedroom. His presence is part of my home. He loved to ski and he sought out the Western Mountain on many occasions and he was part of our Locals Challenge ski race group. He was a friend and a comfort when Stephen and I had a rough patch in 2003. He was a person I never felt awkward with. I can't say I knew him that well. But I knew him like the fox that shows up every winter at the outskirts of the meadow. I knew him like the hummingbirds that feed from my nectar feeder. I knew him like the eagle that flys the river at 5:30 daily during the summer. Today I honor Raymond who lives in my heart whatever his decision will be. So be it. That is all out of my control. But what can I control? My own heart. I get it beating good and strong...send my love to the whole situation and pray he does as he sees fit. I love Raymond. Blueberry...as he was fondly called by some of the locals. Whichever you choose, Ray...Welcome Home.