Fall into the Methow
10/12/2009

Fall has come to the Methow Valley and I wish I had the photos to do it justice.  This morning it is 30 degrees, but sunny and gloriously clear.  The bunchgrasses and aspen leaves are turning yellow, and cold-flushed apples draw bears to the trees.  The pre-sunset “golden hour” lasts all day.

Each morning Tux and I take a tramp in the hills across the creek and note the changes:  the icicles on the creek growing longer, the frozen sections spreading and thickening as winter gradually fords the stream.  We keep track of the three white-tail deer that sleep in our woods, and the coyotes who den in the ravine across the creek.  The liquid light throws the smallest bunchgrass shadows in sharp relief, making the world a wonderland of gold, sage green, and umber, encased in a desert blue sky.

Every day I look for medicine objects: a piece of quartz, a remnant of animal, or some other natural object that speaks to me and, once in my possession, reminds me of the qualities of that animal or element. 

The first day I found an entire snake skin woven into the grass where some bull snake had left it.  It is three feet long—a whisper-thin symbol of transformation.  Loosening it from its place in the grass, I was quietly thrilled:  I’m ready to be transformed.  Back at the Airstream, I wrapped the skin in tissue and coiled it in a box. 

The next day I found a piece of yellow quartz, symbol of power and clarity, and perfect to hold in my hand or tuck into my medicine bag.

Hiking with Micheal on Saturday I picked up a recently shed four-pointed antler, and yesterday the skull and jawbones of a deer.  The latter were lying in a flattened area under a service berry tree, where coyotes had obviously gnawed them clean. 

The Deer represents love, grace, gentleness, sensitivity, and kindness. (And to coyotes, dinner.)  Deer are often referred to as the “first helper” and the protector of the family.  People with Deer Medicine attributes are described as being swift, alert, and bringing grace and beauty to any surrounding. Deer are intuitive and have an almost extra sensory perception. They are associated with purity of purpose, and of walking in the light.  

Coyote is the clown, the trickster, the contrarian, the fool.  But far from being a laughingstock, in Native American traditions this is a powerful role, worthy of respect.  The trickster is a shapeshifter,  using pranks to prevent us from taking ourselves too seriously.  He gives us an opportunity to learn from our foolishness.  Coyote offers a perfect balance to Deer—lest I get too taken by my own “purity of purpose” and forget there are predators sleeping in the ravine.

Today on our tramp I reminded myself to “look for medicine,” and glancing down, saw an old rusted horseshoe. 

“Hmmm…What is the medicine of the horseshoe?” I asked myself.

Then the immortal words of Homer Simpson came winging to me:  “Doh!”

The horseshoe symbolizes good luck!

“Strange, I don’t think of horses as being all that lucky—unless they’re wild.”

And how do you tell a wild horse from a domesticated one? 

"Wild ones don’t wear shoes!" 

So I brought home a reminder that it’s fine to be domesticated, and to understand the ways of home and farm; but sometimes it’s time to kick off your shoes and break free.  There's a whole wild world beyond the barnyard.  It's lucky to get out into it.

In the interest of full disclosure I confess that medicine gathering is a highly selective endeavor.  You'll note that I don't mention, let alone collect, the most plentiful things I see: dirt (common and generally disdained, but trying growing food without it), granite (indestructible, timeless, and everywhere in the Methow), bunchgrass (hardy, beautiful, drought-resistant), sage (wise and purifying), and cow dung (fertilizer, fuel, and you can even plaster your hut with it).  From the male of the species, cow dung also goes by another name--bullshit--and we all know what that symbolizes. 

Snow is forecast for tonight and tomorrow.  The coyotes will laugh at the waning moon; the deer will nestle under the rosehip branches.  We’ll be cozy and safe in our Airstream, watching the flakes settle silently down, grateful for our primary power objects: propane and electricity.