The Free Radical

The Self which exists beyond the confines of my skin is energetically sewn within the Forest tapestry comprising the area of these daily walks. I have become an integrated part of the living system which is the hills and river valley surrounding the tail end of Dutch Creek right before it spills into Columbia Lake just beyond the Hoodoos.

I’m tuned in… to the landscape and all its creatures. To what degree am I attuned? On this day I was surprised to find out.

Right at the beginning as we were making the initial ascent, Raven announced his presence with authority. He was determined to get my attention. I’ve mentioned Raven fairly frequently because he is almost always there, though usually just out of sight. On the few occasions when he’s presented himself to my camera’s view, there always followed a startling and most unexpected encounter.

He sat in the tree for quite some time as we had a lengthy conversation; I just wasn’t quite getting what he was actually talking about. Finally, he honoured my request to fly from his perch so that I could get a better picture, as he flew off toward the river.

The Forest, and especially Raven, aren’t just aware of everything going on in the immediate vicinity, they are equally aware of what is about to occur within the living environs. Raven was telling me of something which was about to occur a few hours hence… but my conscious mind just couldn’t get it.

For the whole of the walk I felt uncharacteristically unsettled. I mean, it was a beautiful day, filled with sights of wonder and tantalizing smells, but I felt uncomfortable, like I was nervous or something… but I had absolutely nothing to feel nervous about. I just wasn’t myself, and I said it aloud a couple of times to the dogs.

It wasn’t until a couple of hours after I’d returned home that my unprovoked disturbance began to make sense. News travels very fast in small towns.

There had been a tragic accident on the river, just down from where I take my walks. Don’t be fooled by the above picture which was taken in autumn when Dutch Creek is at its laziest, non-threatening self. We are currently at the height of runoff. The river is exceedingly dangerous right now. Thirteen years ago I lost a very good friend to the Dutch Creek runoff; he was a trained lifeguard– as was I and our other companion that day. The river was too swift and ferocious; we couldn’t save him after he unexpectedly fell in.

This is the river from more than a week ago. It is up considerably since then. I cannot for the life of me begin to fathom what these people were thinking– taking young children in a plastic dinghy during high water. But apparently, as I went on my walk that morning, they had already set their intentions to do so… and Raven sought to warn me, but my telepathic listening isn’t quite that refined… yet.

My heart goes out to this family; I truly hope that the child will be okay.