Every winter Wamaka the wolf loses the hair on his back end, loses weight and goes into depression. We just can’t leave him out in the below zero cold half naked and sad.  He has to come in to the cabin for warmth, love and light. But we have learned from  bitter bitter bitter experience and the cost of thousands of vet dollars that if Cucumber the wolf doesn’t come into the cabin every morning for love and treats and a dollop (small but it’s the principle) of organic heavy cream  she starts to fade, droop, lose weight, go into dramatic physical decline. She used to be very clear and assertive about her annoyance when we left her out, but she is now 14 and her response is drooped patheticness. A beaten-down displaced wolf. We have learned, and paid for, the consequences. . .

Our “infirmary,” especially in winter, is our cabin living room area 15×18 feet in which we have Jean’s desk, my desk, bookshelves, a couch, a dining room table, a wood burning stove, two dogs, ferns, orchids and barely enough room in which to turn around. Cucumber has to come in every morning – no option. It’s too expensive in vet bills and psychic toll otherwise. Wamaka has to come in. But Wamaka is a very big and somewhat rambunctious wolf and, from past experience, known for leaping on desks and table tops as if he is made only of air and huge paws, and the computers, papers and plants don’t do well.  Part of the cabin concrete floor is still pink from where he spilled paint last time.  Also, this is Cucumber’s special, high status lair and she doesn’t tolerate anyone else. So we brought in an oversized portable cage for Wamaka to protect him from Cucumber (1/3 his size but she is fierce) and the cabin from Wamaka. We made it into a cozy nest for him.

Our mornings consist of putting Talkeenta the malamute out in the Wildlife Garden (she is a runaway and can’t be let loose), because Cucumber sees her as competition and wants to do her in.  Because Wamaka has a jaw deformity and can’t eat easily he gets crazy around food. So we put Wamaka out in the enclosure back of the cabin with a treat, and prepare Cucumber’s special breakfast: high quality dog food (she can’t digest raw meat any more) mixed with Joint Aid, protein powder, digestive enzymes and salmon oil, and bring her in. Or rather we let her out of her enclosure and she races to the cabin, slams open the door and is into her breakfast so fast you see only a blur. Jean and I have a standing joke: “Did you see a wolf come in?”  “No. Whatever it was it was too fast.”  Or “Oh my god there’s a wolf in the cabin!”

Once she has wolfed down her breakfast, had her cream and been properly greeted and petted, I take her out and distract her while Jean brings Wamaka back in. Once he is safely ensconced in the cage and settled to his satisfaction we bring Cucumber back in to join us in our morning meditation. She insists on it – has for the past two years. She has taken over from where Stardance the wolf started us on our meditations until she passed away two Novembers ago.  All this time Boychuk our German shepherd whom all the animals love is sleeping peacefully on a mound of cushions under the table. His presence is a reassurance to all our animals, from wolf to bear, keeping them calm (er). We can’t leave Wamaka alone in the cabin even in his pen. He would destroy it, tear it apart, and let himself out into the cabin; then start tearing the cabin apart in his attempt to find companionship. So poor Boychuk is sacrificed as babysitter.

Figuring out all these arrangements took a while. At first we didn’t know if Cucumber would attack Wamaka. She wasn’t happy about the intrusion and for several days circled his pen menacingly, stalking, prowling, patrolling, letting him know who was boss, making herself very large on tippy toes. There is only perhaps a foot of space between the table and the pen where she manages to squeeze herself through on her patrol emanating domination from every pore.

It took a few weeks for things to settle down. Eventually the arrangement was accepted – as long as it was very clear that Cucumber was top wolf and #1 special wolf and Wamaka stayed in his pen. After properly dominating Wamaka she eventually settles herself under the table near Boychuk. We have to push the pen with Wamaka in it toward Jean’s desk to make enough room for Jean to sit so we can meditate. When we signal the beginning of the meditation by ringing the Tibetan singing bowl Cucumber gets up and begins to circle us several times, pushes her nose vigorously into Jean’s armpit as she goes around, then lays down peacefully under the table, joining Boychuk, her paws or head on his paws in loving companionship.

Finally, things settle down. Wamaka curls comfortably in his pen. A deep peace reigns. There is a sense of enjoyment from all the living beings around us including us. We invite in all the spirits of the animals and trees and land around us.

We signal the end of the meditation with the singing bowl. Cucumber rouses herself, gets up and circles us again several times, pushing her nose again into Jean’s armpit or my lap, giving quick little licks as she passes around us.  This is her ritual- she developed it and does it absolutely without fail. Then she gets her second breakfast, we put her back out, and bring Talkeetna back in.  Another story. . .

So now what? Wamaka is positively delighted with the new arrangement, and has settled in as if it were permanent. If we put him back out we fear he will go into depression. Perhaps not as intensely as Cucumber, a highly emotional wolf where it basically turns into a matter of life or death if she comes in or not, but still, if you “promise” in effect, something really important and then take away it can have a major impact. On humans too.  And now Uintah, Cucumber’s companion, howls mournfully, longingly, aching, when Cucumber comes in and leaves him alone. He needs special attention too, after nearly having died as well. How do we manage three wolves?  Or five wolves?

By now it is usually 8:30 in the morning and we need to start the day. . .

The Wisdom of the Wild

Windwalker, Spiritual Cougar

Windwalker is a cougar who came into what appeared to be a spiritual state of beauty and gentleness as he reached a ripe old age. In his book Alzheimer’s Isn’t What You Think It Is, Elmer Green describes how statements of great spiritual wisdom came through his wife even as Alzheimer’s destroyed her physical brain and left her unable to speak for months. It was as if she were occupying two worlds at once, bringing glimpses from beyond. Perhaps as age weakens the grip of biological forces on the brain, a similar thing happens with all old creatures—humans and animals—allowing a connection with the larger life forces to blossom. When retreat participants met with Windwalker in his last year, he would purr the entire time. It was a deep, resonant purr that gave us the impression his purring was a healing offering. Diane, a retreat participant who suffered from an autoimmune disease, told us that she was telepathically called by Windwalker to visit Earthfire.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Near the end of his days, Windwalker could no longer use his hind legs; he spent his time lying on his side. We gave him soft, clean blankets to lie on, and cleaned him as best we could. Knowing he would leave his body before I returned from a two-week trip, I went to him to say goodbye. He purred, looked at me, and then turned his head away as if to say it is done. A few days later when Jean checked in on him, he sensed that Windwalker’s end was near. Jean returned a few hours later and found Windwalker sitting tall and upright, magnificent even in his old age. He was looking up and out of his protected enclosure, gazing up at the sky. Windwalker was so lost in wherever he was that he didn’t hear Jean arrive, didn’t feel him approach until Jean touched him. Jean says Windwalker startled, as though he was suddenly reminded he had a body. As Windwalker got weaker, Jean lay down next to him. Windwalker purred and purred, although it grew weaker and weaker. At the end, Jean purred for him and held Windwalker in his arms as he took his last breath. Jean’s account reminds me of the stories I read about the dying in Final Gifts, a book by two hospice workers, Maggie Callanan and Patricia Kelly. With a foot in both worlds, Windwalker behaved the way people approaching death often behave.

The Healing of Apricot and Teton Totem

Apricot is a wolf who somehow survived distemper in her brain but a few years later began to display neurological symptoms. Her eyes were unfocused, her neck arched at a strange and uncomfortable angle, and her weaving walk was uncoordinated. The vet told us that prednisone might help but that there was no real treatment. Prednisone did help a little, but we really didn’t want to keep Apricot on a steroid that might shorten her life. I asked Jill, an energy healer whose specialty was damaged nervous systems in humans, if she would like to try healing a wolf, and she consented.

Apricot is a shy wolf, not used to other people, so we didn’t know how she would take to being touched by a stranger. Jill wanted to do the work in a comfortable setting and suggested that we take Apricot to our yurt. Apricot had never been there, which added another element of uncertainty to the healing we had arranged for her. We walked her into a new setting to meet a new person for a new experience. Jean and I reassured Apricot as Jill put her hands on her. In a few minutes, Apricot lay down and went into a deep trance while Jill worked on her neck and head. For forty-five minutes, she lay there taking in energy. When Apricot came out of the trance, she looked around, apparently dazed, then got up and walked around a bit before coming back to ask for more. The next day there was a brightness in her eyes and a bounce in her step, though the symptoms persisted. The second time we gave her the energy healing, we tried it on a massage table. After a couple of minutes of adjustment, Apricot went into a trance again, and when Jill was finished, Apricot continued to lay there for a long time, breathing deeply. The third time, Apricot pulled us over to the massage table. Over time, all symptoms disappeared. For the last two years, Apricot has been symptom free. She is now fourteen, and last summer, in an expression of pure joie de vivre, she leapt from the top of our 15-foot waterfall into the pond.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Since then, I have asked energy healers to work on two other wolves with neurological issues, Cucumber and Uintah. Though tentative at first, each went into that same healing trance, and afterward each was better, if not fully healed. The effect of energy healing appears to cross species, all of us responding to universal healing energy.

There are obvious limitations to hands-on healing with a grizzly bear, especially one like Teton with an aggressive streak. Over two years, Teton Totem had slowly become paralyzed in his hind end, though he was still in his prime. He would drag himself across his enclosure with his front paws. After we had tried all that Western medicine could offer, I turned to Penelope Smith, well known for her work in interspecies telepathic communication. She had previously met and loved Teton. Penelope agreed to do what she could and contacted Teton telepathically from her home in Arizona. She received an image of a slipped disk in Teton’s lower back. She asked him how it happened, and he flashed her a picture of a time when he was standing a few years ago and felt something slip in his lumbar. Penelope worked with Teton daily to facilitate his healing. Whatever the explanation, the facts are that after the first day, Teton dragged himself to his pool and placed his right hind leg in the water as he tried to swing it to and fro. Each day we watched him and observed microscopic improvement. In time, he was able to walk again. That winter he entered his den walking normally, and when he came out the next spring, he was still walking normally.

Cindar’s Telepathic Cry

Cindar was a beautiful, vibrant, black wolf. One evening when she didn’t look well, we brought her into the cabin. She seemed terribly vulnerable, so we asked Summer, a vet, to examine her. X-rays showed congested lungs, and Summer diagnosed severe pneumonia. Although we started Cindar on heavy antibiotics, none of us felt right about the diagnosis. How could pneumonia take hold so suddenly and strongly in a healthy young wolf? One night Summer woke up with a new diagnosis: Cindar had a lung torsion, a twisted lung. With the blood supply cut off, a part of the lung died, filling the rest with fluid from a massive infection. No one local could perform the necessary surgery, so we frantically made arrangements for Jean to rush Cindar to a specialist in Salt Lake City. Cindar died on the way there.

Whenever we lose an animal from an unknown cause, or in this case an unusual one, we have an autopsy done to be sure the other animals are not at risk. Cindar’s autopsy confirmed Summer’s diagnosis. But why would a healthy young wolf die of such a rare illness? Summer said she probably wouldn’t see another lung torsion in her lifetime. Trying to understand, Jean and I eventually remembered that in Traditional Chinese Medicine each organ has not only its own function and vibrational frequency but also holds the energy of a specific emotion. The emotion associated with the lungs is grief. It depletes the lungs and causes them to contract. If people with lung problems suffer from deep sadness, why not wolves?

Now we wondered about the possible causes for Cindar’s grief. There were no recent losses or changes at Earthfire, and then the same explanation suddenly occurred to both of us: hunters in Idaho had recently begun to kill wolves. Not only were they shooting them, they were rejoicing in the killings. Many in the Rocky Mountain states want to eliminate wolves by whatever means, and they regard the wolves’ suffering as irrelevant and justified. The governor of Idaho himself held a rally on the state house steps to declare that he wanted to be the first to shoot a wolf when the ban was lifted. There is considerable documented evidence that wolves are telepathic among their packs across long distances, much like our experience with Thunder’s passing and the wolves that responded with mournful howling. Is it possible that Cindar was feeling the pain of her nearby kin?

Death is a part of nature, but death inflicted with a cruel intent to destroy is another matter. Therapists who work with people suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder report that recovery from PTSD due to natural causes such as an earthquake is different from PTSD due to torture. The element of malicious intent by a fellow being compounds the suffering. Psychologists also report that some children who are not listened to or understood attempt to communicate through illness. Some animal communicators believe that illness and death can sometimes be an animal’s way of communicating. Did Cindar develop a fatal illness not only in response to the slaughtering of her kin but also to communicate this tragedy? Her death has left us with a profound sadness for the plight of wolves—and of all other animals.

I think we humans “survive” by becoming numb, tuning out the pain around us. It is too much to bear unless we have a framework that helps us tolerate the suffering, such as the Buddhist way of compassion. Animals do not have this kind of framework for their suffering. They are being driven off the earth, and so we hear of elephants that rampage, chimps that go wild, and bears that attack humans encroaching on their space. Those unable to fight become ill or sadly melt away. Deena Metzger says of her alliance with the elephants: “I do not think I called the elephants to me. I think they are coming to us, calling us. I think they are consciously transmitting cries of anguish and grief, and some of us are hearing them and are responding.” I would add that all the animals are calling out to us. When we tune out, it doesn’t save us; we still somehow feel the suffering of other living beings. If we take the time and make the effort to tune in to the animals, they will remind us of what is and what can be. During one visit to Earthfire, Penelope Smith came rushing up to me to say, “The animals are beside themselves because we are listening to them. It has already gone twice around the world that humans are listening to them!” Animals can keep us connected to our hearts, without which there is no real meaning. When we are connected to our hearts, we won’t lose our way in top-heavy abstractions and technological innovations. The animals at Earthfire have lifted a veil and made a connection with us in that place where we are all one. The animals are calling us to council.

Our Calling

I have the privilege of living with wild animals. My astounding experiences with them have taught me that when we leave any beings out of our consideration, we cannot be whole. Still connected to nature, which is our heritage too though we are largely lost to it, animals have much to teach us. Our story together is still being written, and there is much we can do to honor the animals, the earth, and all its beings. Here are some starting points:

Link to original posting of : The Wisdom of the Wild

En Español

My son Patrick & I attended the June retreat.  I found it to be a very nice experience and particularly enjoyed visiting with the animals and hearing Bernie  Krause the bioacoustician.  It certainly “opened my ears!”

I was struck by the concept of wildlife corridors being maintained as a way to ensure genetic flow to maintain species viability and health.  I had not previously considered that as a real issue, nor the concept that such work is already underway in different places.  This experience led me to look locally in Minnesota for similar ideas, which in turn led me to Minnesota’s Superior Hiking Trail Association.  This is a volunteer nonprofit organization established to create and maintain a continuous backpacking/hiking trail that currently stretches from the Canadian border to Duluth, MN.

I ended up taking a weeklong backpacking trip on the SHT, which beyond the initial goal of providing one of the best hiking trails in America, has also served as a wildlife corridor itself.  Although narrow and crossed by roads in places, the Trail allows a pathway for animal movement, and much wildlife is indeed abundant there.

I guess my thinking about all this comes down to the idea that ”dual user” parkways, pathways and trails might be a good step toward serving the needs of people and wildlife without the need for conflict.

-Pat Hager

A special tribute to our very missed friend Major Bear.

Connecting with Wildlife Heart to Heart was a retreat held in June of 2011 at Earthfire Institute. With the help of the animals of Earthfire and co-founders Susan and Jean, participants were able to live more deeply and more “in the moment”. There was time for truly meeting the animals in the wildlife garden, contemplation, storytelling, deep conversation and celebration, with the magnificent Grand Tetons in the background. Watch as retreat goers worked towards healing themselves and the planet.

The bears are pining for their gardens so they can go out daily. It breaks our heart that they can’t. Due to the generous efforts of one caring donor from last year we have $3000 towards this.

Diane Fuller has given a $5000 challenge grant for the bear gardens in memory of Windwalker the cougar. She writes: “For quite some time, I have known that my passion is around the human-animal connection, although I have not known where my journey would take me. I truly believe that if I open myself to the universe, the right path will present itself. Last August’s “Call of the Wild” Retreat at Earthfire was just that path. . . and then, among all the other amazing animals at Earthfire, I met Windwalker.

“I would have to say that this was one of the most profound and emotional experiences of my life. It reawakened some parts of my being that I have lost over time and is helping me focus on who I am and what I am fundamentally about. It was amazing, and my connection to this new community runs deep to my core.

“Earthfire is a valuable treasure, and I challenge you to “keep the EARTHFIRE alive” through your support.

Diane Fuller & Jenny the Donkey

“As a result, our community will continue to grow, and together we can make a positive difference!”

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INFIRMARY & HOSPICE BUILDING

We have no place to house and care for sick, old or dying animals in our long and bitter winters. It is from the sick and dying that we have received some of our most profound insights and we want to give the opportunity for them to be heard; to share their gifts before they leave the earth. In general, our philosophy is not to cut an animal’s life short but to let it go in its own time unless it is clearly suffering. Thus we would deeply appreciate funding towards a barn/infirmary building. John Towner, board member and professional surveyor, donated his services and did a complete detailed survey of the property. This will serve as the physical basis for a master plan, and gives a physical size and placement for the bear gardens and barn/office/infirmary. This means the minute we receive funding we can begin construction. Donations of $30,000 will enable us to complete the first phase of construction, which would give us a functional unit that can be added on to later.

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GENERAL OPERATING SUPPORT

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Here is an opportunity to be a essential part of a passionate team working to make a global impact for wildlife; our mission is to Awaken  Ecological Advocacy through the Wild Animals of Earthfire.

Earthfire Institute is currently accepting resumes for a part-time (approximately 25 hours per week ) Office Manager in Tetonia, ID.  Position may lead to full-time work.  Please forward resume, salary requirement and a professional letter of reference to marie@earthfireinstitute.org as soon as possible for consideration.  We will remove this post from our blog once the position has been filled.

Ideal candidate must have a general interest in wildlife conservation and ecological advocacy and be comfortable working in an open office environment in a log cabin located on our 40-acre grounds in Tetonia, Idaho.  For more information, see our website (www.earthfireinstitute.org).

Required skills include a H.S. diploma, strong PC skills, the ability to multi-task and organize, knowledge of software programs such as Quickbooks Nonprofit, Word, Excel, GiftWorks and the ability to quickly learn new software as necessary.  Ideal candidate should enjoy working with others but also have the ability to work individually and enjoy growing, learning and adapting within a dynamic, informal nonprofit organization.  Flexibility and a sense of humor are essential.

Willing to train for the right candidate.

Position tasks are listed in no order of importance, and include but are not limited to:

Accounting Administration
o Maintaining data entry, accounts and reconciliation of Quickbooks Nonprofit and creating and maintaining accounting systems to support organizational needs. 
o Tracking expenditures and multiple sources of income through a donation software.
o Organizing and filing expenditure and income receipts.

Income Administration:
o Ability to track income from multiple sources including online donations , retreat income and merchandise sales.
o Develop avenues to pursue income collection for merchandise sales (i.e. Earthfire mugs, books, art work).
o Collect and track multiple sources of income including retreat income, foundation and individual donations.

Yurt & Retreat Coordination:
o Work with retreat facilitators to coordinate and manage participation payment, travel arrangements, catering and materials organization.
o Organize and maintain printed visitor materials, media resources, and yurt inventory.  Ensure that visitor yurt is organized and clean and ready for retreat participants. 
o Maintain correspondence with retreat participants and facilitators.
o Ensure that all guest information of visitors at Earthfire is entered into donation software.

Office Correspondence:
o Maintain network computer filing system.
o Write thank you letters, author e-mail, fax and written correspondence.
o Have a basic understanding of monthly e-newsletter format and distribution.
o Organize bi-annual hardcopy newsletter distribution, including mailing and printing.
o Ability to identify and correspond with important resources as tracked in GiftWorks (donation software).

Office Filing:
o Be able to work efficiently in a quiet environment.
o Keep office organized and tidy.
o Keep track and re-order office supplies.
o Stock stationary (make sure stationary, envelopes, visitor policies, brochures are printed and stocked).

Evaluate Systems:
o Work with Earthfire staff to periodically evaluate office procedures for their efficiency and effectiveness.
o Create filing and archiving systems that allow staff to easily access information.

Permits & Licenses:
o Maintain federal and state licenses.
o Ensure that wildlife care logs and veterinary procedures are organized.

As happens to all of us, I grew up in a world that looks at animals differently, and I changed.  I never completely lost my core, but I learned to hide it, sometimes even from myself.  It happened in increments, but I remember moments.  When I was in third grade, my father went hunting and brought home a pronghorn antelope on the roof of the car.  I looked into that animal’s still bright eyes and sobbed.  In a futile attempt to comfort me, my mother assured me that he – the pronghorn, not my father – had no soul, so he had nothing to lose.  I knew better than that, and silently apologized to him, and to all animals, for human ignorance.  I vowed through my tears to somehow make it up.

Entering adulthood, I chose to pursue another passion, and became a fiber artist.  But I never forgot my pledge, and when the longing to be with animals became too sharp to ignore, I left my studio a few hours a week to volunteer at a zoo.  Those hours stretched, turned into a job, and inspired me to incorporate abstract animal imagery into my art.  In turn, the images became more realistic, and by the time I accepted a job at a wildlife rehabilitation clinic, I had written and illustrated two books about wildlife.  Those books were for children as much as they were for the pronghorn.  Getting them published was a step back to myself.

Constance Perenyi - Apricot, 6.5x5 paper

And still, I was in hiding.  The wildlife center where I worked strictly limited human interaction with the animals in residence.  While I respected the need to keep wildlife wild, I grieved many missed opportunities.  I secretly took many of those orphaned or injured animals into my heart and did my real work with them in the quiet of night.  It was in that safe space that I could explore the deeper meaning of our intersecting lives.  I reached out, and they were there, just waiting for someone to initiate the connection.

During my third summer at the clinic, the director made the decision to cover the cages where young crows were kept indoors until they were old enough to join others in an outdoor aviary.  Of course, the idea was to keep them from bonding too much to their human caretakers, but the edict was unbearable to me.  I argued that these birds needed exposure to the busy clinic.  Most basically, they needed light, and in a state of deprivation, many weakened and some died.  I fought until I lost my voice, literally and figuratively. With resignation and a feeling of failure, I left my job.

I’ve carried that painful memory for almost two decades, and along with it, a deep desire to find a different way to work with wild animals.  A few months ago, a friend introduced me to Earthfire Institute through a link to the video of Apricot.  I blinked through tears as I witnessed a healing collaboration done with integrity and skill, and so much love that I felt my own heart begin to heal.  In that moment, my earliest understanding of life came rushing back.  It is so simple: we are one, and we help each other.

I also knew that I wanted to honor Apricot with a portrait.  Paper is my medium, and I work in a form of collage most like the traditional Japanese art of chigirie.  With my background as a fiber artist, I am suited to working with layers of paper, and over the years, my work has become increasingly painterly.  It is also a profound way to connect with animals.  Even when my only source is a photo, as it was with Apricot, I can step aside and let the animal come through.  It may take days to get the details right, but the hours are suspended, as they are when I am in the company of animals in so-called real time.

I have been honored to do portraits of animals, both companion and wild, for humans who want to remember.  I chose to portray Apricot so I could remember.  It is an honor to share this little collage with my kin at Earthfire Institute.  I will visit someday soon, but this place, these people, and these animals already burn brightly in my imagination.  I am grateful beyond words.

Caitlin and retreat leader Polly Klein, returning to the yurt. (c) Hershel Klein

In August, I was honored to be invited with 10 other students to a retreat at the Earthfire. We were brought there by our Reiki teacher and animal communicator Polly Klein. I am still figuring out what happened. Still journaling, meditating, singing, and whispering about it to myself, a few others. One thing I learned: right after, I should have gone into silence, as befitting any sacred encounter. But I also felt a deep need to tell people about it. Somehow.

These were said quietly and without irony by caretakers and founders Jean and Susan. How do you integrate those into your usual sentences, I wonder? Even with such a strange internal dialogue as mine? I had thought, before I left, that I would get to stand really, really close to a bunch of cages with wild animals in them. I had no idea that I would not only be able to touch some of them, but give one of them a massage and a Reiki treatment to another.

Bramble Bear enjoying his time in the Wildlife Garden, showing off for retreat participants. (C) Hershel Klein

I keep trying to interpret but I’ll just tell this one thing: I sat on the grass watching Jean pet ancient cougar Windwalker until he purred. (Again with the sentences.) Behind me I heard a huff-huffing, which turned out to be the large grizzly, Huckleberry Bear Bear. Poking his giant snout under the bars of his enclosure, followed by more of his head until I could see his eyes. Following instructions, I looked at him briefly, then looked away. I looked back and he was still gazing at me. I looked away again. Then I trusted my instincts and looked back. We gazed a long time. And I heard, clear as a bell, a question from him:
What kind of animal are you? I knew instantly that this is the question I’ve been answering all my life. I told him that, awkwardly.

Caitlin and Firefly getting acquainted. (c) Hershel Klein

It took me a full three days to realize that Jean and Susan weren’t kidding: they really do mean to be creating something new (or very old) with animals. A connection. How it used to be or how it could be or something else that I won’t diminish with words. But to be with wild animals who are perceiving you as a fellow critter, to be sniffed and possibly touched by them, is to restore the animal in oneself. What a gift.

The following story is a good reminder that you can have an Earthfire experience anytime anywhere. If you just go out into nature, be it in a city park, a favorite trail by your house, or a trip into the mountains, there is wonder to be found.

I sometimes frequent nature trails here in Florida. I just love walking with nature and enjoying the peacefulness and spotting animals in their natural habitat.

As I walked one trail in northern St Lucie County, a few beautiful blue scrub jays flew over me and landed in a tree just ahead of me. While a couple of them flew away as I approaced; I notice one stayed on an outside brach as if it were not afraid of any interaction with me.
When I got close to the tree; I greeted the bird with a simple “well…hello my friend”.
He flew to the ground right at my feet and looked up at me. All I could think to say was “well…aren’t you friendly”. Just for the heck of it I stuck out my right hand and extended my index finger and invited it to my hand. It actually landed on my finger. I was totally astonished that this beautiful little bird took to me so quickly. As he was perched on my finger, he just pecked around gently at my hand and finger as I spoke to him reassuring it that I was a friend. It was amazing how long he sat there just looking at me as I spoke to him. I have never had such a feeling of oneness with nature. After about 5-10 solid minutes of speaking with my new friend; I lifted him to the air and he flew off. The feeling inside of me can in no way be described in words alone. My whole day after that could not have been ruined by anyone nor anything. I have returned to that spot several times in hopes of a return visit from my friend; but have been unsuccessful in finding him. I hope that one day, I might share another experience such as that one with one of my brothers in nature. It was an experience I will never forget.