Opening up my home to an honored guest


This beautiful wild bird was my teacher for almost a month, coming to me at death's door,  inviting me to remember a long-forgotten language buried deep within my body.  He flew across the entire room for the first time on the day of the eclipse, showing me that he was ready to go back to the shore and sea. After releasing him, I became a student of the wind so I would always be able to feel and hear the healing of his wings.

We are the embodiment of a paradox; we are the wounders and the healers.
— Linda Hogan
There are occasions when you can hear the mysterious language of the Earth, in water, or coming through the trees, emanating from the mosses, seeping through the undercurrents of the soil, but you have to be willing to wait and receive.
— John Hay
Kim Nogueira