Early this morning a dream of a deer, come to the door of a house I was just leaving. I thought he was an unusual sighting in a suburban neighbourhood as he turned and ran away revealing a fox tail rather than the little white cotton puff. Excited, I turned to my host, who seemed non-plussed, as though deer were frequent visitors in his neighbourhood. But when I went out again to the street, the deer was back, his expression deliberate, gesturing with his head for me to follow him around the corner, where it turned out an old friend was giving birth.
I took a lot of photos while I was up north.
I loved the experience of it. Of getting up early, heading out into the morning light and feeling a kind of no-mind creative process – different from writing. Different because it seemed like the best way to connect with my surroundings was to be empty, to just be present in my body in the space…..waiting, feeling, breathing, sensing.
Riding and walking the trails around Collingwood, I found it easy to get very quiet inside myself. I’d heard in the past about “walking with your power animal”. It sounded faintly pretentious and I wasn’t sure really what was meant by it.
But I started to feel it. I started to feel like that’s what I was doing. Walking as if. Walking inside the animal. Walking AS an animal – listening, smelling, feeling the light shifts in the air.
Rustles and snaps of twigs in the brush, in the forest made me stop and listen, waiting to see who was there. All senses poised as carnivorous predator, hunting for the next shot.
Strangely enough, sometimes it seemed as though the hunted waited, wanting to have their picture taken.