Planetary Stories Project

"To Act Globally, Think Locally – Through Stories"

Black Earth Institute

Place: June Lake, California, USA

Sierra Autumnal Equinox
By N. H. Williard

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Full moon at midnight a coyote began howling so close, it sounded like it was in my bedroom. She yipped and barked and made other sounds never made by any dog. Another coyote answered it from close as well. This one made some strange yodeling sound I had never heard before.  A song for the new season.

At dusk a five point buck and an four point buck locked antlers in my back yard as another buck watched from the yard next door.  They were lacksidasical about it. Slowly fitting together into the clutch and turning their heads testing each other.  They finally left when we let out the dogs.  The moon was creamy above them and their eyes glitted back at the flashlight and they slowly stalked away holding their antlers like crockery on their heads.

Birch trees have old eyes.  The wrinkles around the knots slope down.  With the white bark that reminds me of long white hair, I have the feeling that old Indian souls are looking at me from their tree bodies.  Next I find two strong black feathers next to the creek to thank me.  The eyes appear to be smiling.

Autumn Equinox. Mabon. Stand an egg on its end today to salute the balance of light and dark. Give libations to trees. Finish old business and prepare for the winter reflection. Walk in the woods. Turn pain to wisdom.

Cinquo, the five pointed stag, returns to my yard with his harem of three.  Once again my dogs are waiting to go out so I shine the flashlight at him.  He arches his neck and stands still, enforcing his dominion.  My son, standing beside me, breaks and rushes him laughing. They all run.

After the autumnal equinox, the grasses bend to the ground.  Mustard and indigo replace the emerald and Sierra blue.  Poppies are gone. We stack wood, organize our treasures and wait.  The moon begins to turn again. Seeds sleep. The temperature drops and colors fade until Nature takes pity on us and covers brown with glittering snow until springtime.  Just wait.

29 September 2009

© NHWilliard 2009