Jane's Medicine Tree

Meet QuackStar!

A few days ago, on a trip to Vashon Island to deliver our chickens to their temporary home with some dear friends, and to take care of some business, I was disconcerted that I didn’t recognize anyone on the ferry boat, or even in Thriftway (where typically you encounter at least three people with whom you must have long conversations in any given trip to the store).  In the checkout line I was relieved to find myself behind a fellow Reiki Master and colleague.  I’m sure I’ll get in sync with the island soon enough, I thought to myself.

Sure enough, by the end of our brief stay, I was back in stride.  On the ferry boat, I discovered that the friend I’d been hoping to run into at the cafe or in town in order to return a book was in the car right behind mine.  Beaming, I handed him his book, and told him that I’d recorded (after two years) my first podcast–a project he had encouraged me to pursue.  (Yes, I’ve begun Forest Halls, a podcast devoted to living our magical nature, which will be posted once a month.  The first show will “air” within the next couple of weeks–right after our move).  On that ferry ride back to the mainland, I also ran into a friend who’d emailed me recently because of her interest in visiting the Wallowa Valley, and a few other folks I’d crossed paths with that day.  Ah, I breathed in delight.  Island magic–again, at last!

In an interview with Shamanic Counselor Leslie Gray in the book Ecopsychology: Restoring The Earth, Healing The Mind, I was struck by Leslie’s comment that “In shamanism, synchronous experience is considered a sign of health and the lack of synchronicity a sign of deterioration … In shamanism, when you feel congruent with your life, you’ve been restored to personal power.”  Reading these words last night, and recalling the joy of my synchronous experiences on Vashon, I knew the truth of these words.  When I write about magic, it’s really about our experience being alive with joy and freshness and synchronicity–when we are so attuned to our nature and to Spirit that surprises pop up all over the place, and knowing is humming in our bones.

It was this kind of joy that sprang forth today.  In a sweet afternoon of lying on the grass, hanging out with Amri’s seramas (miniature chickens), and me reading aloud to my daughters On The Banks Of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder (and it is quite a fascinating experience to read these books once you’ve had your own experience with semi-homestead living!), something plopped right into my space, next to the book.  We looked up in astonishment.  A duckling!  The sweetest thing you ever did see–inquisitive and right at home with us, heading after a few moments straight for Amri, and practically burrowing into her lap.  As Amri said, it was like a dream!  Where had this duckling come from?  It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere!  And even before Andy set out on a search for its mum, I just knew that that duckling was now going to be part of our feathered family.  It didn’t surprise me a bit (even though I was astounded–does that make sense?) that it had come to us, homed in on Amri who has got to be in harmony with all manner of poultry–she is so in love with them.

Daughters to each side, Quackstar in the middle, Lord Firestar in background

Anyway, we’ve settled the little guy or gal in with us, done some internet searching to check in on duck care, as well as Amri perusing once more her duck raising books.  Magic springs in in surprising ways–and this little ball of black and yellow fluff, with those funny soft webbed feet is of the best kind of magic there is.