Trees, Trails, and Chickadees

The hills have been calling me for two weeks now, but the days have been frigid and icy and the wind wicked - not the kind of weather suitable for much except blankets and books. This week, a warm front moved in and melted the small amount of snow on the valley floor, leaving puddles for happy ducks and revealing green grass, and late autumn seeds for the profusion of quail picking through the yard. I gathered my wildcrafting friends, wise women who know the land and its stories, who hear it speak to them, just as I do, and we went up into the trees and the great rock bluffs to wander for a while.

The snow fell in tiny wisps of almost-flakes while we spread out and followed the trails that called to us. I became enthralled with a grove infested with what seemed like hundreds of chickadees. Their calls, excited peeps, and pecks and scratches on the tall pine and fir were a symphony, and their jumping and flittering from tree to tree, a ballet. You may have your Nutcracker, but I'll keep the wild chickadee troops, who eat massive amounts of food each winter's day and then induce hypothermia each night in order to stay alive through the long, cold months ahead.

There were other paths to follow. High mountain juniper called out to me, and I now have some infusing in oil for an after bath treat for my cold-weary skin. I stopped for a while and listened to the wind as it whispered through the old, sky-high pines. I traced deer tracks for a time, winding back and forth through the trees. I wanted so much to follow the coyote too, to see where it had gone roving, but my friends called out to me from a gorgeous bluff over the hill, and I left that trail of paws for another day.

We found several small trees that someone had cut and left where they fell. Why such waste, there's no way of knowing, but we allowed ourselves to scavenge the boughs of the fir and pine lying there to bedeck our own homes for the season. The drive home, in a vehicle stuffed to the roof with evergreens, was divine.

There was soup to be had at the end of our exploration, hearty warmth handmade by someone who knows her way around bones and herbs. As the cold faded from our own bones, we spoke of transformation, discovering the depths of ourselves, and finding where we belong - even if that is in more than one place and even if that knowing makes us ache.

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go. 

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

Excerpt from "Wilderness" ~ Carl Sandburg

Last night, after crushing a bit of juniper in my hands and bringing it to my cold nose, again and again, I finally drifted off to sleep and went back to that path of paw prints in the snow. I don't know if I ever found the canid that left them, but I woke feeling like I had been wandering all night in the cold.

Tonight there are candles lit, and extra blankets at the ready (as there will be for all the long nights to come) and I can't help but think about the chickadees gathering in their hollowed trees and any other shelter they can find, intentionally dropping their body temperature, transforming their food stores from the day into fuel to keep their body shivering until the dawn.

I don't know that I will mind if my dreams lead me back to the wintry forest. I might follow the trail of paws again, or perhaps I might learn something from those tenacious birds who embrace the cold, and find a way to evolve to suit it. Maybe they can teach me about going deeper, to the very edge of life, only to wake in the morning and begin the adventure again.




Assorted wintry bits:

~ The stars are falling again - the Geminids will put on a show for you on December 13-14th if you feel like looking to the sky. Great info here.

~ My delightful, if grumpy about the winter holidays, friend Hob from The Orphans's Almanac is now into his Nights of Krampus giveaways. You only have 24 hours to get in on each night's fun, so make sure you stop by his blog daily over the coming week to check out the wonderful and wicked goings on!

~ If you want to know much, much more about animals and working with them in a meaningful way as a spiritual practice, then do check out Sara Magnuson's class Animalia. Sara is wise, and passionate about her work with animals/animal spirits and this looks to be a fantastic course.

Not Even A Mouse - Animals Appearing at Christmas

When you think of animals associated with the holiday season, flying antlered deer most often come to mind. Although the legend of reindeer powering St. Nicholas' yearly excursion has been around since the 1800's, (pre-dated by St. Nicholas appearing on a white horse,) there are other beasts that are connected to Yule and Christmas.

I, said the cow, all white and red,

I gave Him my manger for His bed,

I gave Him hay to pillow His head;

I, said the cow, all white and red.

The nativity story wouldn't be quite what it is without the donkey that carried Mary or the co-habitants of the stable where her son would be born.  The song "The Friendly Beasts" or "The Gift of the Animals" allows the animals themselves to sing their praises, or more accurately, report of their gifts to the newborn king.

The idea of the animals acknowledging the Christ child is echoed in the later tale that tells of how animals might kneel down to pray at Christmas.

"My mother told us that at Christmas, at the hour when baby Jesus was born, that the ox and the donkey beside the manger began to speak.  She also said that if you went to the barn at that very moment you would hear the animals talking."

And a derivative of that story, with a less happy ending:

"An old woman told me about a man who didn't believe in anything. They say that at midnight, when the good Lord came into the world, the animals kneel down. 'I'll go and see for myself,' he said. When he went out to the barn, all the animals were on their knees.  He thought that was silly so he said to them: 'What are you doing?'  'God was born this night,' one of the oxen replied, 'and tomorrow we'll take our master to be buried.'  The man was so frightened that he dropped dead."

~ from Acadian Christmas Traditions, Georges Arsenault

In Sweden (and in a similar way in Norway, Finland, and Denmark,) small bearded men called tomte or nisse bring the holiday gifts, entrusting goats and sometimes pigs to help haul the goods.  In older times, the tomte (or tomtar) were more farm-hand type fellows who helped with daily chores and animal care.  Their identity as holiday visitors developed over the years and more modern tomte have begun to look like Santa Claus.

The Yule Goat, the figure that visited households before the tomte gained popularity, was the helpful spirit of the last harvest, who might bless (or at least keep an eye on) the progression of the Yule celebration.  This goat was symbolized by a straw or corn dolly and kept in the house, and now appears more often as a traditional tree ornament.

I can't seem to track down much about mice having a role in the holiday festivities, but in my family a pair of Christmas mice have always made an appearance and are still hung each year at my parents' home.  Aside from "not a creature was stirring..." and this charming mouse song from Norway, the only other mention I can find of a tradition is the sugar mice that are so common in the UK as a holiday treat.  

"There never was such a goose," says Dickens as he describes the Cratchit family's Christmas meal.  Although we gravitate to turkey these days, the goose was traditionally the more common and affordable meal option.  I went out searching for a goose last month for Thanksgiving.  The most reasonable one I could find was $60.00.  The 20lb turkey beside it was $11.00.  Times have changed.

As we sing the final praises of animals at Christmastide, don't forget that a full 23 of the items listed in "The Twelve Days of Christmas" are animals (all birds) and that's before taking into account what the "eight maids a milking" were working with.  It seems that the holidays would be considerably less cheerful (and tasty) if our celebrations excluded the animal kingdom.

Do you include any animals or animal stories in your holiday celebrations? I'd love to hear!

* all photos from creative commons and linked back

* sources include:

Ingebretsen's (Scandinavian folklore and culture)

Acadian Christmas Traditions by Georges Arsenault

Wikipedia "Tomte" 

Found Animal Objects

Being a wild-crafter and forager, I come across more in my travels than just amazing local plants that heal and uplift and smolder gorgeously on charcoal. While walking beside rivers or through woods, I find the occasional animal offering. Feathers, foot tracks, nests, and sometimes shed hair or antler are discovered. Some items are collected and brought home while others remain where I found them, gifted with whispered acknowledgments to the fauna that deposited the evidence.

I have found my share of blood and bone too, but I am not experienced with bone collecting or flesh removal techniques, so I leave that to the ones who work in those mediums.  You can expose yourself to some nasty bugs if you are not vigilant while working with animal remains.  I’ll note a few links down below - there are some very talented hide and bone workers out there.  To these practitioners, working with the dead is a sacred act - one that they take very seriously.

I have a small collection of feathers, antlers and assorted oddities like some wasp paper salvaged from a huge nest that was knocked free from a tree last winter.  Last week I brought home some wood chips carved out from one of several trees that were downed by the beaver population.  The teeth marks in the wood are fantastic, although I’d have preferred to not see half a dozen large trees come down in the space of a month.

When I bring home animal materials, I make sure they are not wet or bloody.  Covering your find in salt for a time is a good remedy for any lingering dampness.  I have a friend who microwaves feathers for 10-20 second intervals (keeping watch) and says it works great for her. I don't have/use a microwave, so that's not even something I would consider.  I prefer to leave mine in the freezer for a few days to make sure there are no bugs hopping a ride into my house.  Use common sense.  Anything that looks like it is decomposing or has a questionable substance on it, should be left behind.

Will you display your finds?  Do you have an animal altar to house items and offerings for a multitude of animals or for one specific one that you work with?  Will you use the animal materials in ritual or spell work?  I change my altar seasonally.  Sometimes antlers appear, sometimes feathers.  The wasp paper is being saved for now - I have few ideas on what I might want to do with it.  The beaver chips…who knows?  To me, beavers are hard-working, familial, nesting animals that are charming but fierce if cornered. Perhaps I'll use the wood as an addition to a special incense, or as an ingredient in a working where I’m wanting a little tenacity or persistence.

Research animal symbolism, but also take time to ask yourself what the animal that left your find means to you.  Bringing home a treasure like this can simply offer you something lovely to display, or move you more deeply into connecting with nature and the spirits and animals that reside there.

Do you collect animal objects? Are there any particular animals you work with?



For more information:

Lupa has a new book out on animal totems.  She also works with animal hide and fur (re-purposed fur from coats and hides that were already out in circulation. She doesn’t support trapping.)  She sells these items in her Etsy shop.  Her blog site Therioshamanism is a wealth of information about working with animal spirits/totems, ecoshamanism, and a host of other topics.

Sarah Lawless works with animal materials to create fetishes, flying ointments and more, and continues to build her own personal collection.  She blogs at Witch of Forest Grove and sells her products at The Poisoner’s Apothecary.  Her article in the latest Witches & Pagans Magazine, The Girl Who Found a Feather is a fantastic read.

Ms. Graveyard Dirt is a bone collector (with a fabulously foul mouth) who works with found dead.  She can be found on Tumblr where she has links to her other haunts, as well as a search bar on the right that will take you to posts on her bone and blood work.