Corinna, Corinna was a favorite film of ours through the years. This little song has been worming its way through my gray matter all night. It was one of our Sunday School standards growing up and it never loses significance.
It can be so hard to carry on as the happy, bright beings we are when life’s burdens feel so heavy. At times it seems all we are seems to offend and repel those around us. It is all too easy to withdraw into ourselves, retreating from the pain of loss or fear of rejection.
It is during these moments that we have to hold that little light high for all to see, to remind ourselves that our heart light sustains us through Life’s difficult walk, and to remind the hand of darkness that the Light is eternal, its source sustaining its Children.
If you have the chance, catch the movie. Its message of love and acceptance, tolerance and honesty, remains a relevant one.
As usual, I spent time outdoors over the #Free48 and being in the garden means seeing some of my favorite tiny friends. I was preparing to fertilize my blooming plants and went for my hose when I noticed this lady in a bit of a treacherous situation. Within a couple of hours the sun would be scorching…
I tried getting her rolled over with a stick but she just didn’t grasp it. I tried to pick her up but she got frightened and her wings went berserk. Eventually she clung to the stick and we got her relocated to a nearby potted plant. She quickly snuggled in among the leaves.
I checked in on her throughout the day but she remined hidden in the plant. I hope it wasn’t near the end of her life; but if so, at least she was able to slip away in the cool of the shadows rather than blister in the 90 degree torture.
They are so other worldly looking..
This has been a record Summer of the Cicada around here and I consider it a good omen. Here is a bit about the nature and life of the Cicada as a spirit totem:
The cicada is an ancient symbol with themes of resurrection, imortality, spiritual realization and spiritual ecstasy.
For many, the Cicada represent personal change, renewal, rebirth and transformation. Unlike the butterfly or moth, the Cicada does not go through a complete metamorphosis and has no pupal state. They represent what they were as a nymph and all the glory of what they become in their adult form.
The presence of Cicada teaches us about qualities such as restoration and tolerance as well as a strong connection with Mother Earth.
It represents a time to be honest with oneself. When we fall into the comfort of pleasing others we tend to live make-believe lives.
Through the connection of the soul to Cicada, one is able to remember all the truths that have been long buried. Forgotten thoughts and ideas rise to the surface once more, allowing us to tap into them easily.
Its voice assures us that we are of utmost importance and we can use our own voices to effectively communicate our true selves and there is no need to live under anyone’s shadow.
Most people close to me understand that while I am quite practical about many things, I also have a very open mind and an even more open heart when it comes to the mystical, magical, ethereal possibilities that exist. A lot of folks have no trouble believing in angels and even ghosts, but simple things like visible energy or communication between worlds is too ‘big’ for them to consider worth contemplating.
Whatever you want to believe, I often experience little magical miracles that occur when I least expect them and need them most. The miracles in my days are often tiny, like the small creatures that crawl or flit into view that I am sometimes able to capture with a camera. Since I, too, often feel unnoticed and insignificant, these creatures loom large in my radar and I want to share their magnificence with the world.
Bees have been prolific this hot, humid Summer. They have presented in all shades, colors and sizes in great numbers. My little garden has become a haven for winged things, many of whom I have shared with you already. I can often tell when one of my tiny friends is waning. A butterfly that sits too long on the bloom and will crawl willingly onto a finger is usually found dead soon after. The same goes for bees lingering too long or moving too slowly. A few days ago there was a tiny bee who stayed in my garden for most of the day, crawling among my pink coneflowers, barely moving from bloom to bloom. It allowed me to get really close for photos and even hung around during the regular run of the sprinkler. I joked that our little friend was enjoying a spa day!
Since we have had temps in the 90’s it seemed our tiny pollinator was enjoying the refreshing shower. Although nearly invisible compared to the larger bumblebees and carpenter bees that visit, this little beauty was delicate and magnificent.
As far as I knew it was still around when we turned in for the night. The next morning the bee was gone but there had been a bit of early morning rain which left lots of lovely drops everywhere. Dewdrops and raindrops are in my top ten favorite things to photograph so I immediately started snapping photos with my phone. I made my way around the garden and ended up by the birdbath. To my great sorrow, I spotted my little bee guest floating near the edge, dead. I was saddened but not surprised. I took it out of the water and laid it in the dirt to be a part of the garden. 😔
When I began editing my photos I was delighted and not surprised to see beautiful, delicate little orbs around the cone flowers where my bee spent the last day of its life.
I have to say here that I have had all sorts of light anomolies in photos and definitely know how to recognize sunlight orbs and dust particles as well as mist spots. I have also taken photos that had orbs in them where none of these influences were present.
What are they? I can only guess. I personally feel they are energy, energy tied to extreme emotional responses. But that is my unscientific supposition. Then again, I am not a scientist. I am merely an observer and willing participant in this madly intriguing walk we call life. I will continue to watch for miracles, lift up the unseen into the light of appreciation, and accept what gifts the universe chooses to give me.
“Where?” I ask, holding my breath and my macro lens in anticipation of something wonderful.
He points to something among the tomato leaves. I see a fine wisp of silk gently swaying but nothing else.
”I can’t see anything,” I repeat, moving carefully closer and raising the lens just in case.
“Just below my finger here,” he places his finger slightly closer with a careful instruction as to what leaf I should be looking at. “She has a yellow marking,” he adds.
With each of our movements she scrambles protectively and I up my stealth meter.
“Ah! I see her now,” I whisper, relieved and excited by yet another miraculous minuscule inhabitant in my little garden. Snap. I take a photo, just in case she disappears into miniature oblivion before I can manage a better shot.
She does have yellow markings! If I can just get close enough without alarming her spidey senses….
Yes! She will pose for the crazy camera lady. Her mother must have warned her of the perils in living here.
’You must be brave,’ she advised, ‘and always look your finest. This could be your chance to shine before all the world and to change the hearts of humans towards our kind. I shall always be with you, little one,” the mother’s voice faded into the blue as her tiny creation floated away on the silken strand of separation.
“Now, I must be inconspicuous,” the tiny one reminded herself. “Just blend in and be singularly magnificent.” She took a deep breath and began weaving….
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