Archives for June 2020

We’re Just Like Birds

June 28, 2020 by Denise Brake Leave a Comment

After last week’s post about flying dreams, I realized I had an accumulation of photos of the ‘real flyers’—the ones who inspire us to take off, fly high, and soar on the wind—in our dreams and metaphorically in our lives. They go where we cannot go without the aid of a ‘big silver bird.’ They seem to have a freedom and a reach that us ‘grounded’ creatures can only wistfully watch and long for—oh, to be as free and majestic as the Eagle!

And yet, as I looked at the photos, I realized that maybe birds are more like us than we realize (or we like them?) They like to hang out with their family and friends, and life is good on the water.

Some of them/us are loners—we don’t have mates or children or even many friends. We know how to be alone and how to be relatively okay with it. Inner life can take a higher priority than outer life.

Birds have curiosity, like most of us. What do I see? What do I hear? What does that mean for me and others?

They also can be startled, intimidated, territorial, fearful, protective, bullying, and loud. Sound familiar?

Birds spend a huge portion of their time and energy doing the work of providing food for themselves and their families. It takes concentration and patience, know-how and skill, and very often we and they are rewarded for our efforts. But not always…it also takes tenacity and resilience to keep trying when the opportunity slips away.

Housing is a big issue—is this going to be a good place to raise our family? Look it over, try it on, envision our future, determine the safety, can we afford it? Let’s make a nest. Let’s raise a family.

It takes an enormous amount of time, energy, fortitude, worms and bugs (and their for-human counterparts), sleeplessness (and sleep), learning, humbleness, mistakes, forgiveness, patience, and love to raise that family from infancy to independence. The birds have a compacted time frame in which to do so, yet they do it time and time again in each yearly cycle of their life span. They raise their children to fly. They teach them how to find their own food, to stay safe, to expand their knowledge. They teach them to be curious and wary, adventurous and prudent. They protect them the best they can.

They try to ward off those who would take advantage of their young ones with a fierce look and a strong beak.

They are observant and alert.

They model behavior, good and bad, with and without intent and consciousness.

They are proud of their fledglings.

And they love them.

Birds don’t spend most of their time in unfettered freedom, soaring the skies for fun and pleasure. They spend their time doing the day-to-day things that we do—working for food, shelter, and a place to raise young ones, and they use their innate tool of being able to fly in doing so. Maybe we aren’t so different from birds. Perhaps our freedom and reach extend along the ground we humbly inhabit instead of the heavens—to our families and friends, to the ones in solitude, and to the children in our lives. Maybe we are like the eagles—majestic and free.

Flying Dreams

June 21, 2020 by Denise Brake 2 Comments

Love it seems, made flying dreams, so hearts could soar. Heaven sent, these wings were meant to prove once more, that love is the key. Love is the key. —‘Flying Dreams’ written by Jerrald Goldsmith and Paul Williams

I have had flying dreams my whole life. Many times I am in a room with tall ceilings, and I can just leap into the air and fly to the ceiling, then push off the wall with my feet to change direction. Perhaps it is more like weightlessness, like floating, like an astronaut in space. Other times I am flying outside, skirting high-line wires and trees, steering Peter Pan-like with my arms, and looking to my side to see birds flying with me. Whether inside or out, my flying dreams bring an immense sense of freedom and an indescribable feeling of joy.

In spite of the ease of flying in my dreams, in ‘awake’ life, flying isn’t always easy, especially the getting-off-the-ground part—or in the case of a dragonfly, the getting-out-of-the-water-climbing-up-any-available-vegetation-to-dry-out-wings part.

A little over three weeks ago, my friend and I went to Saint John’s Arboretum to try to find the hawk’s nest I had discovered before the leaves were on the trees—but this time we were unable to see it in the camouflage of leaves. We did find some beautiful ferns, spring wildflowers, a tannin-stained Trumpeter Swan, and….

…lots and lots of dragonflies! Most of them were not flying however—they were clinging to the shrubs and trees that lined a small lake. They were ‘tenerals’ or newly emerged from the aquatic larval stage. Dragonflies begin their life cycle in the water where an adult will lay eggs on a plant in the water or in the water itself.

The larval or nymph stage can be one to four years of growing and molting under the water. Water temperature and length of growing season determines maturation of the nymph. Emergence usually happens in the early morning when the nymph crawls out of the water up a stem of a plant. Some crawl several yards to a vertical plant to begin the final shedding of the larval skin to become the adult dragonfly.

During this transformation time, the dragonflies are vulnerable to predators, mainly birds. Even rainfall at this time can damage their soft body tissue. Up to a 90% mortality has been observed in one emerging population. Their legs are the first to harden so they can hook their claws into a plant or tree. Their wings are colorless, like shiny saran wrap.

Eyes of the ‘tenerals’ are reddish-brown above and gray below. Both the wings and eyes will develop more color as they mature.

The newly-emerged dragonflies did fly from their drying posts when we walked by, but their flight was weak, and they only flew a short ways to other shrubs.

Along the edge of the lake on the shrubs and trees, when we looked closely, were thousands and thousands of dragonflies climbing and sunning and drying. When we walked by, a swirling frenzy of flying circled our heads until they once again settled on the branches. Practice flights to ready them for their short adult life of only weeks. Once they are ready, the fairy-like flyers are graceful and powerful. They can hover in the air and fly in all six directions as they capture mosquitoes and flies for their food.

Flying dreams represent having our own personal power, a new perspective, spiritual connection, and freedom—freedom of expression and possibilities, and hope. Dragonflies represent transformation, adaptability, joy, wisdom, and illumination. Flying dreams release us from our perceived limitations; we break free from those things that tether us to earth, that hold us down. I love how our dreaming minds can give us a sense of freedom, power, and joy—a flight map for ‘awake’ life. The dragonflies have a vulnerable time—when their new, soft bodies are susceptible to weather and predators. They need time to settle into their bodies, to ‘harden’ their vulnerabilities, and to feel and know the intrinsic power of their wings. We all go through vulnerable times in our lives. What is most helpful to you during those times? Some are culturally vulnerable, when the walk to freedom is long and difficult, when history tethers them down with invisible ties, and when breaking free of those ties is thwarted at most every turn. We all need flying dreams. We all deserve flying dreams, and we deserve powerful, grace-full people to model, mentor, and mediate a flight map to freedom, power, and joy. Love is the key.

Rubbing Elbows with Trees

June 14, 2020 by Denise Brake 2 Comments

The first time I mowed the grass at our new place was a little over three weeks ago. It takes awhile to get to know the lawn—how to mow in the most efficient way, where there may be roots sticking up that may impact the blades, which parts are weedy versus lush and long. I like mowing. It may be monotonous in a way, but it feels more like meditation to me—my body moves in habitual ways, the sun warms me, the breeze slides over my skin, and my mind can go wherever it needs to go. And then when I’m all finished, ‘the lawn looks good mowed,’ as Chris or I will say.

This place has many more evergreen trees to mow around than we’ve ever had, and it was not long before I realized that I was literally rubbing elbows with trees. As soon as that thought entered my mind, I affirmed that I was happy to rub elbows with trees! At this time of year, the new growth is soft and brightly-colored. The Green Spruces have opulent lime green extensions reaching out at various heights.

The distinguished Colorado Blue Spruces have light blue-green branches of tender new growth, like melt-in-your-mouth mints of candy confection.

Each time I mowed close to the trees, the lavish fragrance of a fresh-cut Christmas tree filled my nostrils.

A quad of Red Cedar trees grows close together, like school girls on the school yard with their arms linked, elbow to elbow—wealthy in friendship.

The prominent new growth of Spruces, Firs, and Pines is called ‘candles,’ which are most ‘candle-like’ on Pines. This once-a-year growth adds an abundance of new needles that unfold and harden off by early summer.

I love how the candles all point to the beautiful blue sky.

Rubbing elbows with eminent Oaks happens when they are young adolescents, when the branches are thin and pliable. The new, tender leaves are at the right height for grazing deer to munch on. If it happens early enough in the season, the tree will put out a new shoot of growth to ‘fill in’ where the deer removed the foliage.

Jack Pines are medium-sized conifers that often have crooked trunks and drooping lower branches. The pollen cones are rusty flowers that release a thick yellow pollen in late Spring, like gold drifting from the sky.

The small, hardy trees are well-adapted to fire. Their cones are ‘serotinous’—sealed with resin that requires high heat to open and liberate the seeds, most often with fire, but high air temperatures can open cones on low branches. One tree can be flush with many old, sealed cones with seeds that remain viable for years.

‘Rubbing elbows’ means to associate or socialize with someone—usually someone who is rich, famous, or special in a similar way. The President, who is most certainly all of the above, recently tweeted about some former cabinet members, “They all want to come back for a piece of the limelight.”

I prefer a piece of the sunlight that shines on us all, the wealth of blue sky for anyone who looks up, the abundance of beautiful trees affluent in life-giving oxygen. I want to rub elbows with creations that affirm life and liberty for all other creations of all sizes and colors. I want to link arms with living beings that are compelled to grow and change and whose trajectory is towards the light. Sometimes new growth and change come from the heat and passion and destruction of the old order, the ‘serotinous,’ unopened systems that protect the status quo. Public attention is widening. Illumination is happening. The new seeds are waiting.

Archives for June 2020

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