Garden Presence: Thursday's Reflection

We have a new friend in the garden.

The timing is perfect because my husband has been putting the garden to bed for the winter, and it seems a bit bare.

We don't know its name yet or even its gender. He. She. It. But we will listen, and I am confident we will learn its name when the time is right. 

Our new friend is an inukshuk, a structure of rough stones stacked in the form of a human figure traditionally used by the Inuit people. Some feel these figures are symbols of hope, safety, and friendship. 
Our inukshuk was delivered to us in metal buckets by two human friends who had been to the shores of Lake Superior. They create inuksuit (plural of inukshuk) when they visit the North Shore, and this inukshuk had asked for a new location. An urban back yard. At least that's the story I tell myself. 

Our friends arranged the inukshuk close to a garden path, pointing the way, and we stood and admired it. The top stone, the head, seemed to need adjustment, so Ann turned it just so. Yes, that's right, we agreed. The two feet are jagged, raggedy, but that's what happens in life. Our broken pieces merge into a whole to support us and makes it possible to move forward. The inukshuk's arms point the way, if we only look, if we only listen. 

Our friends emailed the next morning, "Did your new friend make it though the night?" We had talked about the tribe of squirrels who have been eating our pumpkin buffet. Would they investigate our new garden friend looking for hidden treats? They are more interested in the fallen bird seed from the nearby feeder, however, and have either not noticed this new presence or have recognized the merit of having a rockperson near by. 


I had a sudden urge to introduce my Masai Wise Woman to the inukshuk. I thought they might exchange words of wisdom. 
          "How do you stay balanced?" Wise Woman asks.
          "Well, I try one way and if that doesn't work, then I try another," answers the inukshuk. "What about you? How have you learned to move gracefully through the world?"
           "Thanks for asking. I take time to reflect on what is in front of me and listen                                                     to what I am supposed to learn. And I try                                                       to be present."
                                                               "That's what I try to do, too. Be                                                           present." 
                                                               "Welcome. You belong here."

An Invitation
What new presence is waiting to enter your life? I would love to know. 

NOTE: I am taking a bit of a break from the blog, in order to be present to other things in my life. My intention is to be back the week of November 12. In the meantime, feel free to browse some posts from the past. 

NOTE: My essay "The Comfort of Shawls," originally published in Bella Grace, issue 9, Sept/Oct/Nov 2016, has been reprinted in a new Bella Grace publication, The Cozy Issue. You can find this new publication on the newsstand beginning November 1.