winter animal

sunday afternoon, winter. 

a fine day, yet here i sit in a north- and - east facing darkened studio, trying to jump start a book into the beginnings of some sort of an existence. 

a quick burst of vacuuming ten minutes ago produced bits of things from a part of life years past:  torn pages of a paperback (The World According to Garp – created by two month old puppy walter, going on three years ago), bits of bent sterling wire, a beer bottle cap from a visiting son, a piece of worn river glass.  a small smooth stone, a tiny watch battery, a penny, a dime.  all of these oddities from a fuzzy living room corner summon memories and scents and emotions; the relics are everywhere, spilling over bookshelves, rolling in dust, hiding between a table leg and the wall.  why can’t i make myself begin?  but really – here, then, at least – i have begun.

a few seconds after flipping open the laptop, while waiting for programs to blossom across the screen, a faint flicker of movement far down on the road caught my eye.  there, barely – a  rusty brown coyote, trotting on up the steep road as if she knew exactly where she wanted to go.  a sunday afternoon winter coyote, loping.  there is no mistaking that lope.  alone, wild, but accustomed to an asphalt road.  now this makes me think of bit of vintage text that the vacuum missed again, all in caps:  “WINTER ANIMAL”.  so maybe, then, i’ve even got a title for this book that holds back, vaporous, an apparition wavering in the edges of what i am trying to see, to think, to do.

i’ve just spotted the coyote again.  a miracle, this chance to be here writing at my window, hidden in the shadows, barely catching a glimpse of this wild four legged creature before it is past the trees and around the bend, once again.  and now, a coyote memory – did i really see it?  twice?  and i can’t pull my eyes away from the window, back to the dormant computer screen.  fingers lie resting lightly on keyboard buttons.  i type this sentence as i watch the edge of the woods at the road, through the screen, through shadows of trees.  how many times have i missed seeing something beautiful in this life, because i was focused on something inside, on something inward, on anything other than what was right outside my window, through the glass, unseen?

winter animal.  it begins.  it continues.  it does not end.

(for some very interesting reading about animals and what their appearances in our lives can mean, go here...)

Comments

[tracey]

Regarding animal totems from the book Animal Speak:
"Oftentimes the coyote makes things more complicated than they need to be. If the coyote has shown up as a totem, you may ask yourself the following questions...... Are you complicating what is really simple in some area of your life? The coyote teaches the balance of wisdom and folly and how they both go hand in hand."
Maybe your 2012 totem is the coyote! My totem last year was the vulture and I found a skeleton of one today on my walk.....

[Valerianna]

I often have that sense - that maybe I DIDN"T see the critter I just saw. Its such a flash sometimes, like the time a bobcat was suddenly there, ten feet from me, we were eye to eye, then I glanced away and it was GONE, vanished, didn't even see it go, it was just GONE! So, I get it, cause living here, close to the wild, when things show up, I can't take my eyes off the outdoors...

I used to have a barred owl that came quite regularly and sat in a tree right outside the window. I would be stacking wood, cats walking here and there, and she would just sit there, snoozing in the sun. Year after year she would come... I think she must have flown on to the other side, cause I don't see her anymore. I do hear and catch glimpses of others here, close, but none come and sit for the day with me.

Good luck beginning.

[Mary G.]

"Coyote knows how to survive" leapt out at me from your link.

Best wishes on your book . . . you have begun, and that is better than not beginning at all.

[Tina in McLeansville]

love your chance (or
maybe not so much) encounter with your winter animal.....apparently she's very comfortable in that area....keep watching...she may bring friends!
as for the book...any forward progress, no matter how slow is good. hugs...xo

[sandra]

Symbolism and metaphors... I love this post. I found an interesting site too on Coyote's. Here it is:
http://www.whats-your-sign.com/animal-symbolism-coyote.html

The coyote symbolizes, according to this website:
Skill, Ingenuity, transformation and more...

[liz]

you are writing.
yes.
gathering your words and wisdom and truth into a book.
how i love this.

blessings to you across the miles...

[Emily]

And the saga begins.
And now we know some of the behind the scenes and meanings to the title of your book.
I'm waiting for more with bated breathe......

[dorylyn]

i agree, you are writing. thank you for sharing.

[Jeannie]

Just write as though you are telling me the story. Simple words that flow out in our conversation. The editing comes later. Just imagine you are telling this to your best friend or Walter. Sometimes I think sitting and being quiet opens the world to me. I see that the tulip isn't just red, but a whole host of colors that make me see the red. Or a coyote will walk up the lane....

[Just Jane]

"how many times have i missed seeing something beautiful in this life, because i was focused on something inside, on something inward, on anything other than what was right outside my window, through the glass, unseen?"

This is quite powerful and thought-provoking.

[Alice]

Ah, and so it begins. You've got a starting point, a gift from nature.

My 'office' faces a big window, and often times I see a sleek red fox on her morning search for food to take back to her little ones. She's a beauty, and I feel fortunate to get a glimpse of her before she disappears into the trees.

I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who finds such treasures hidden in the carpet and other places that I forget to clean. I'm not the best at houskeeping, but there are things more worthy of my attention, in my opinion.

Have a wonderful week!

[wendy cooper]

Sometimes we expect beauty and wonder to be larger than life and easy to find, we look out and we look up but the real mysteries of nature and beauty that leave us in awe are the tiny treasures when we look down.......

[Debi]

i have been too long gone, but my god, what a fabulous post to leap back into.

there is a painting by terry allen that belongs to the local art museum. i worked there for a while and would have - almost - risked prison to take the painting with me when i left. it had words and it began "said he'd been happy only two times in his whole life. once was coyotes . . . "

[Lynn in Tucson]

We have matching rings.

:-)

[robyn]

Remember Albert Einstein's words ... " Nothing happens until it moves"...... and you are moving! Yay! You have no idea how happy i am to hear the book has begun. This post reminds me how much I love your writing.

[Jennifer Valentine]

your writing is so soothing to me...so magical...living here in this small town with little rolling hills and where celery is king,it is always so magical to see a rarely seen creature... for me it is foxes. Only twice in the 8 years here I have witnessed one, hopping over rows of newly spouted corn, acres away, as I've driven the long country road to "civilization". I remember the quiet excitement I felt.
Reading your words here is so much like that....unexpected and truly delightful...and memorable. Leaving you feeling like you've been a part of something truly magical.

[Jolee]

Enjoying your post. My studio has one window - north facing. My once loved purple walls are closing in on me. So - I too am on the move. I'm putting my work on hold and ripping everything away from the walls and hope to be painting the walls by the end of the week. Funny, there is a neighborhood coyote here also. It is such a curious thing to watch. He/she always walks on the asphalt road as if that is the natural thing to do! Happy writing!

[Katherine Langford]

Periodically I will find a feather - sometimes it is just so odd. I will be walking along and something within will say, " look down" and there is a feather. I keep them and use them in my journal and in my art. I always take them as a message. They lift my spirits and remind me to look over the entire day or activity with a different view point. How lucky you are to have your totem for the year. Last year was an owl year for me. Cheers!! Enjoy your coyote and listen to Joni Mitchell's Coyote. It will put a smile on your face.

[susan]

Lovely post, Nina.
My husband and I just got back from Maine, celebrating our winter anniversary. There, we walked the Marginal Way (footbridge along the ocean), bundled up against the bitter cold and treading carefully on the icy path. We climbed down onto the rocks, searching for small treasures - filling my pockets with heart-shaped stones. On the way back, we saw moose tracks in the snow.
So happy we didn't stay inside where it was warm and cozy.
How lucky you were to glance out your window and spot the coyote. What a special memory that is.

dusan xo

[Diana Giambrone]

Nina!

I saw somethingfrom the corner of my eye also. I saw you! I used to go to your blog everyday and read about what you were up to and then during one of my busy times, I somehow lost you. The last time I read your blog was when Walter was a few months old and very into his puppy antics.
It's been almost three years? Amazing. I had searched for you off and on hoping I would find you again. It's as if I had some sort of amnesia...some lapse where all I could remember was a Ektachrome hue in your photos, a puppy, snow and beautiful words, and amzing jewelry.
Today, I found you again! You were mentioned and linked on another bloggers page!!
I am so happy to have you in my daily life again! And, I hope someday to meet you! Enjoy the snow for me..
xox, Diana