There is a usual route that I take with my dog on my mindfulness walks on the Shadow Creek Nature Trail. We start at the Kingsley parking lot and walk through the grove of trees on the left to the creek that traces the edge of the wetlands. If no one is back there, I let her off the leash. She runs happily chasing smells and wagging her tail. There is a spot I call my “magic hill” where sometimes I sit and play a drum or sketch. On my walk Monday, several dragonflies darting around above the grass when I got to this spot. Dragonflies are ancient symbols of transformation, emergence, and the mastery of light. Dragonflies begin life in water and then learn to fly—just like me, emerging from emotional depths (my sickness in January, shadow work, working through self-doubt) into new freedom and expression.
As I continued down the creek, I heard doves cooing and whistling ducks calling. Doves are symbols of peace and divine communication. Ducks, especially the whistling kind, signal emotional navigation and movement between worlds (water/sky/earth). They remind me that I am bridging realms: healing + creativity, spiritual + material, inner voice + outer visibility.
Further down the creek, there is a special tree that I call “Tristessa” because it has a base that splits into three different trunks. Tristessa collects items at her base that have been inspiring me along my creative journey. First it was a white bowl, then a plate, a fork, a knife, a second fork, a water bottle, another water bottle, a corn on the cob, a piece of gum in a shiny wrapper. In January, during the week I was really sick, an entire cake was left at its base. But for the past week, the base of Tristessa has been cleaned off. This reflects my own internal house-clearing and readiness to fully touch my poetic truth. As a result of the clearing, I have been able to get closer and touch her trunk, caress her, give and receive healing. Her message to me today was, “It’s time to go from gathering inspiration to becoming the channel.”
As I left Tristessa, I noticed a large black object at the end of the creek, where it merges into the bayou at the bend. I usually leash my dog back up at the bend, before we rejoin the main walking trail, but today I realized I was going to have to leash her up early because of this black object. I thought it was perhaps a cow. I have seen cows behind a fence in the pasture across the creek, and I thought one got loose and made its way to this side.
As I leashed up my dog and walked closer, I realized it was a stroller, and there was a woman next to it holding a baby. She held the baby up to the sky, and I noticed that the baby looked brand-new and bare-skinned. I was very curious about this baby. I wanted to ask her how old it was and see what it was wearing, but the mother kept her back to me. I noticed she had a tattoo on her left calf and long, wild hair. She appeared young. I wanted to connect with her as a mother but she was packing the baby up as I passed and did not make any eye contact with me. I thought I might see her behind me and slowed to see if she would catch up, but she must have turned right back to the parking lot as I continued on the path. This was the most unexpecting sighting I have experienced on the trail as of yet. I realized that this moment was not meant for my interaction, but for me to witness. It made me reflect on my poetry book, already born in spirit. Am I ready to lift it to the sky and let others witness it?
After this, I noticed several turtles sunning themselves on the sides of the bayou. Turtles are symbols of ancient wisdom, steady progress, and Mother Earth herself. They affirmed my divine timing. I’m not behind. I’m moving exactly at the pace that honors the soul’s unfolding. Fields were dotted with primrose and buttercup. These represent the inner affirmations blossoming around me, reminding me to share my creative gifts boldly.
I stopped by a bench in the shade to type up my haikus that I have been writing in my walks and something caught my eye on the bushes. I pulled it out – it was the skull of a large fish, vertebrae still attached. I was resurrecting the bones of something once submerged, like I have been doing lately with my dreams of being a writer.
A short distance away, red shouldered hawks called out in a chorus, at least two or more, maybe fighting over territory or communicating about a mutual threat. Hawks are messengers from Spirit. Red-shouldered hawks in particular are known for calling one to higher sight and bold action. What action are they calling forth in me? Cattle egrets were feasting in the fields of flowers but flew away as I drew near. This showed me that as I draw near to my power, things once distant or elusive (like connection, visibility, purpose) begin to move in response.
As I continued to walk past my favorite trees on my way to the water fountain at my turnaround point, I passed a young woman. She was walking with clumsy feet, with her head down. As she passed, I looked into her and found her to be terribly sad. I visited my trees Galadriel and Gabriel and observed the growing vines on their bodies, the way the air felt across my face. After stopping for water, my dog and I began our walk back. As I approached the turn on the bayou, I noticed a young pine tree that had an injury at its base. The injury appeared to be in the shape of an owl. It was leaking sap that glistened like amber in the afternoon sunlight. It’s as if the tree is weeping light, transmuting pain into beauty. That could be a mirror of my own journey: transforming past wounds into offerings of healing and insight.The presence of the owl shape here could be a reminder that my pain carries wisdom.
Soon after I encountered the weeping pine, I passed the sad woman on the trail for the second time (we were walking the circuit trail in opposite directions). She seemed still a bit sad, but much calmer. After I made the complete turn, traveling north now along the bayou, I glanced across to watch the sad girl walk, and noticed a woman with gray hair on a bench near the weeping tree. I had not noticed her before, so I felt surprised to see her there. Perhaps she symbolized wisdom watching over my transformation, or even represented an aspect of my own future self: calm, grounded, quietly present at the site of healing.
I followed the trail left back towards the parking lot. A handful of men passed me in both directions, exercising on this beautiful spring day. I saw something in the grass just off the trail that appeared to be a structure that someone made out of stakes of wood, like a fort. One side had fallen or was pushed over. This could symbolize a crumbling of old defenses or constructs—maybe outdated beliefs or protective mechanisms I’ve outgrown. It might reflect part of my inner architecture making way for something new and more aligned.
Soon after came across two little boys with their dad, playing in the grove of trees. They had approached me wanting to pet my dog and I had a friendly exchange with them. This shift from crumbling structures to innocent engagement and connection felt like a return to joy, trust, and childlike wonder.
There’s a line from a Mary Oliver poem that says, “Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.” These walks, the way I pay attention and find meaning in every little thing, and then feel the need to write it down and share it is my way of being a walking oracle, being the one who interprets the magic of the world and brings it forward to you as a gift. I am open and ready for receiving this world in all the ways it decides to show itself.
