Thanksgiving morning I dream Chris sits on a patio chair on a small wrought iron balcony overlooking a wooded lot. There is an iron arch at the balcony edge. I hang an ornate wrought iron gate from hooks on the top of the arch. When I wake up and tell the dream to Chris, he asks if he is in Paris. The dream reminds me of the deck at Methodist Hospital that overlooks a restored section of Minnehaha Creek.
Waking Dream: White Owl Mates
(Friday, November 24, 2017) moon waxing crescent Aquarius / tarot ace of pentacles
This morning I look out the dining room window. The large white owl is circling high over our neighbor’s cottonwood tree. I call Chris to the window and soon the owl is joined by his mate. They circle together, then fly away.
Again we are overwhelmed by the owl beauty. So much owl symbolism is about predicting death and accessing dark magic. But these owls are white. They rise with the sun and dream with the moon, like humans, not like their nocturnal feathered brothers and sisters. What message do they bring? Purification? Lucidity? I find them to be like animal angels. Angels often visit my waking and sleeping dreams in pairs.
Owl and Flow
(Tuesday, November 21, 2017) waxing crescent Capricorn / five of pentacles reversed
I get up at 7:30 this morning to start cooking for Thanksgiving. As I sit finishing my masala chai, a tiny particle of dust catches my eye. Illuminated by the sun, it dances slowly through the air and sparkles like a star, making me feel like time is standing still. Microcosm.
An hour or so later I look out the front door window into the clear, blue sky day. Chris has just shared a dream with me: in his dream he sees our wild turkeys gathered by the backyard baby pines. The turks are being frightened away by a smaller but much more aggressive bird. As I muse on his dream a small, white, dusty particle again catches my attention. Miniature flakes of snow thinly scatter through the air on the strong, cold wind. Even though there is not a cloud in the sky.
I am so charmed by this mercurial, nearly invisible snow that I ask Chris to confirm the reality of my vision. He views the snow from my bedroom window. When I join him in my room I see a huge white owl perched above our pond in the box elder tree. We watch it for several minutes, mesmerized. At first I think it is a hawk, but it rotates its head so dramatically I realize it must be an owl, even though it is daylight. Our Great Horned Owls are only visible at dusk and in the night. This owl is the same size as a Great Horned Owl but it has no horns. The head and breast are pure white and the wings are lightly barred. When it finally launches from the box elder to a walnut tree a few feet away, we see that the underwings are completely white as well.
Soon the snow is gone, the owl is gone, and we are feeling great joy about the rare blessing of owl presence. I tell Chris his dream of the predatory bird is precognitive. We dig out our bird handbook and search the web, trying to figure out what kind of owl we saw. I think it is a female Snowy and Chris thinks it is a Short-Eared Owl. Both hunt in daylight.
In the afternoon I check my emails. I have received a message from Jill Purce about her 2018 workshops. I won’t be able to do Glastonbury again, because that happens during Victoria’s workshop in April. Jill does a Healing the Ancestors retreat in Vancouver in July and a Healing Voice session in London for Samhain. I feel that Owl and Jill are connected. She wears pure white during the mandala ceremony. Is she asking me to attend?