a gaian tale
I knew the land intimately, like my thighs and breasts and the
nape of my neck. I had my favorite trail. I took it all the time.
But that day as I was walking, the fork trail pulled me with an
awesome magnetism--it spoke to me...Walk here.
And I did. I followed a new trail--to the dry creek bed where the
big magic happened.
Siamese kittens. At first awareness, that's what I imagined. In seconds,
I realized I was in the sacred presence of baby foxes. I knew their
father. I had been visited by him the day before. His royal redness
walked right past me on the green.
They were playing hard--tumbling and biting each other.
At the growl they disappeared so quickly into the decaying tree trunk
at the creek bed's edge that my heart was aching. I felt deeply humbled
before the growl. I saw her up on the hillside, the vixen, her orange
fur flashing through the trees. I felt her concern for her babies and
quietly retreated, profoundly changed forever.
I later took their name as a blessing.
artwork by Cynthia Nicole Cunningham Baxter