Thursday, March 20, 2014

The Love of a Lynx


About two weeks ago, I was working on two poems - poems I had originally put on Twitter - wanting to combine them into one. One of the poems came about due to a plate I have hanging in my kitchen of a lynx in snow with a rabbit beneath its paw, a plate my mother once had hanging in her kitchen. It was a gift from her sister, who had traveled to Norway. I was thinking about finding an image to illustrate the poem on my poetry blog and thought how nice it would be to have my own photo to use. I had never seen a lynx but had occasionally heard them in the woods near our farm when I was a very young girl, a bone chilling cry as though the cry of a baby lost in the woods. I thought even seeing and being able to photograph footprints would be nice although from where I was sitting it didn't seem possible. I let it go.

A couple of hours later, I just got up from the computer and walked over to the window that looks out over my back yard. Right at that moment, a lynx came from the old chicken coop/garden shed and moved across the open space into the pine trees at the meadow's edge. I could hardly believe my eyes. I watched, hoping it would come out of the trees so I could see it again and make certain it was, indeed, a lynx, rather than a bobcat. I knew it wasn't a cougar, as it was definitely spotted with a shorter tail. Just as I wished for this, I saw it come from the edge of the trees, walking towards my woodshed. By this time, I had fetched my father's field glasses and got a closer look. It definitely had the longer legs and tufted ears of a lynx. It disappeared into the darkness of my woodshed, probably looking for a meal of mice among the wood. I watched it lie just inside the shed, behind the snowbank in front of the doorway. I went online and did some research on them, and felt relieved that it was very unlikely to bother Buddy, who was tethered at the front of the house, although I did keep a very good eye on Buddy while he was out there. I went back to watching it for awhile, but don't know when it left; eventually, I had to get on with my day.

I might have thought I was seeing things, except I just happened to look out the next day and there it was again, leaving the area by the woodshed and moving back across the open space to the coop/garden shed. I grabbed my camera and got two very poor images, my own personal evidence that I hadn't lost my mind. I wondered if she might stick around, maybe even give birth in the shed among the straw bales. I sure hope so. I decided to not let my curiosity get the best of me, but to stay away and let her have her space.

The significance for me has not been lost. I'm not certain how the world works, what the true nature of reality is, but I do wonder ... was it my own manifestation, was I seeing what I needed to see? Did I create it in that moment, as I suspect we do with all our moments? Was it a message from my mother, or perhaps even my great grandmother, who has brought me messages in visions/dreams before? I do know something quite wonderful happened and I don't need to have answers so much as I need and want to be grateful. It has been the springboard for healing, both emotional and physical. The strength and grace with which the lynx moved gave me the insight I needed to walk in this world with the same sense of strength and grace. It showed me what I needed to see and it provided me with a deep sense of caring and love that the world itself brings to us when we simply ask.


Here is the micropoem which brought me to this wonderful experience:
http://teresaevangelinespoetry.blogspot.com/2014/03/along-river.html




The photograph of the chicken coop is mine.

32 comments:

  1. Mystical and beautiful experience, Teresa. I do hope there will be kits ...for lucky you.
    I loved reading this post. Thank you.

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    1. Thank you so much, Sissy. It's good to hear from you.

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  2. Sometimes we see what we need to see, but sometimes, what is beyond our understanding gives up a sign. I don't think that we are suppose to know or figure out which this is, but I do think it's our responsibility to accept the experience in a positive way and walk with it.
    Interesting and thought provoking post. Beautiful as well.
    (And... I just love your header photo of the horses.)

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    1. It's been a very peaceful and healing two weeks and much of that I owe to this incredible experience.

      I found the header image online with no attribution, none that I could find. Aren't they beautiful? I'd love to lie right down there with them.

      Thank you, Connie.

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  3. Although I had seen bobcats crossing the highway at night before, I had never seen a bobcat or lynx up close until September 2005, while I was hiking in Yosemite National Park. Whether is was a lynx or a bobcat, I don't know, but it was probably the latter, given their respective geographical ranges. It was a magical moment, which I can still see and feel to this very day.

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    1. Yes, magical. And, I just had an incredible sense of deja vu, as though we'd both said these words before ... love it. I have no doubt this will be with me always.

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  4. I think I understand what you are saying here as I've had similar moments. When I read your description I feel rather than think about the moment and actually want to reach out with my hand as if I might touch the idea. It is that close. But no, I can't explain it but I most certainly can feel the idea/truth/knowledge, the thing that has no word. And yes, it is healing and each time something like this happens I think it changes who we are.

    How cool that you saw this lynx and hopefully she will hang out for awhile.

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    1. Rubye Jack! Yes, "it changes who we are." Exactly so. Thank you for understanding that. My younger son thinks she chose my place knowing it was a place of sanctuary from this crazy world. True or not, I do like the notion ... :))

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  5. This is so, so beautiful and meaningful. I look forward to seeing more on here about the story of You and the Lynx. The story of magic in a world with such a need for it.

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    1. Thank you so much, DJan. Your response means a great deal to me. A great deal.

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  6. What a great experience! I have not seen a lynx in many years, although I do see their tracks in the snow when I visit the western border of Montana in winter. I'm sure there are none left in the immediate vicinity here now. You are fortunate indeed!

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    1. I feel very blessed ... so good to have you posting again ... have missed your beautiful photos.

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  7. how wonderful, a smaller animal like a cat or small dog would be a meal fr a lynx, we had what we call a bob cat walk by our property in California and I think I read they will hunt in one square mile if there is enough food so you are likely to see him again, I was hoping to see a photo of the plate.

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    1. I almost posted a photo of the plate ... perhaps I will ... Thanks, Linda.

      I have heard of them in rare cases attacking small dogs. Reading about them was very interesting.

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  8. This is so cool...what a moment! What a sight! Isn't it just strange how things like this happen??? magical manifestation!

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    1. It is life changing, something I will never forget.

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  9. This is the second post I have read this afternoon with a similar 'theme'. Do go to From the House of Edward's blog and read the Bluebirds post. here is the link - http://fromthehouseofedward.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/bluebirds.html

    I adore your header pic by the way....

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    1. Yes, a very similar experience. Thank you, Cait. I love these affirmations ...

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  10. Dear Teresa, I am awed by this posting as right now I am reading a book by Florence Scovel Shinn on manifestation and on letting ourselves be open to the Universe converging within us. There is such mystery to your posting. Such Presence and presence. And the lynx? He/She is another mystery of creation and Oneness. And you are within that Oneness, walking and living within the essence of lynx. Let us live in gratitude and expectation. Peace.

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    1. Oh, Dee, thank you for this beautiful response. I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I think of how he/she moved across the snow with such strength and grace and feel lifted up. Thank you for this blessing.

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  11. Always a thrill to see up close some of nature that we don't usually see. -- barbara

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  12. Oh, lord, still my heart - such moments of majesty at the perfect time in space for needing them, Teresa. Your story of the lynx, the micro-poem, the photos, and you, dear one, ever-receptive to the wonders of what is all around; this all reads like a prayer to me this morning. I have had moments like this - and I understand.

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    1. Penny, I was thinking yesterday of my introduction to your life, how you and Tom were going window to window to look at the deer ... may we never lose the wonder of it all ... some of these moments are, indeed, life changing. Thank you so much ...

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  13. "May we never lose the wonder of it all..." Such a perfect summation of your experience, your sharing of it and the responses to it from those who have had their own such experience, or vaguely sense its possiblity.

    I've never seen such a creature in the wild, but I did once come across fresh bobcat tracks in a sandy stetch between the Gulf and the oak cheniers close by. The tracks were fresh -- so fresh and sharp that the edges hadn't yet begun to dry. In that moment, the presence of the bobcat was absolute. Though I couldn't see him, I knew he was watching me. Whether my feeling was excitement, or anxiety, or an admixture of both, I can't say. I only knew it was time to leave. And the memory's as fresh as the experience.

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    1. Linda, I love reading your responses .. you're such a good writer. Your phrase, "between the Gulf and the oak cheniers," is so poetic. Thank you for reading and commenting.

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  14. I am always giddy and somewhat surprised when these over under around and through experiences happen. It is simply a matter of paying attention. Our existence is somewhat like a spiral staircase with glass walls. One need only to look up to see what is around the bend. Loved, loved, loved the poem by the way!

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    1. I love your desription of it as, "over under around and through," which seems quite apt, as is the glass staircase. Very interesting, and thanks for commenting on the poem. :)

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  15. I found myself holding my breath while I read your post. Was I holding my breath to see if you saw the lynx again, or was I holding my breath because I didn't want to spoil the beauty of your writing by being distracted by breathing. I am always amazed by experiences such as the one you describe here. Like you, I would be questioning what it all meant.

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    1. Oh, my, thank you so much for your generous words. They're very much appreciated. I'm so glad you read and commented.

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  16. How beautiful. I read somewhere that a lynx has very big, furry feet. Hope you have some young ones born in your shed.

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    1. Yes, they do have big, furry feet, and he/she seemed to be walking right on top of all that deep snow, as though on snowshoes ... the picture of grace. I'm hoping I do, too.

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