A Snake in the Garden
At times when I am lost in the throes of a torrid mind storm, I can sometimes ask myself … what is it that is stopping you right now from SEEING that you are in the Garden? Indeed if I am outside, it is easy to come back to the present moment awareness and hear the birds, feel the sun on my shoulders, and touch the bark of a strong tree by my side.
I am …
always …
right here …
right now.
The story of worries and future possible pitfalls can cloud my conscious and take me away from the unending Eden of Presence itSelf.
Fortunately, even if I “forget” to “remember” where I am, Grace finds a way to bring me back when I loose my way. As it was today, the loud barking of the little hairless dog — Dalai — took me out of my mind-made-make-believe, as I stood up and walked over to the water garden where she was standing.
“What is it Dal?” I asked her. But she just looked up at me, cocked her head to one side and quickly wondered off to go sniff out a bunny that was hiding in the back bushes. I cast my eyes down to see if I could understand the reason for her initial barking outburst. But there was nothing out of the ordinary. I took a few steps inside the wisteria covered redwood gazebo, my feet covered with leaves that had fallen.
From the corner of my eye I could see movement and I turned my head just in time to see our familiar scrub jay land on a branch that was winding around one of the side posts. My boyfriend had befriended one of our backyard scrub jays and over the last few weeks, she has come to see us both as her never ending supply of peanuts in the shell. There’s something lovely about interacting with wild birds, or nature in the wild in general. Here we can see first hand what it means to build or break trust. Indeed, over the years, I’ve found that I learn more about the present moment by watching how animals interact with their environment than I ever did by reading a Zen koan.
I reached in my pocket to pull out a nut for our friend, but instead of taking the peanut from my hand she shouted loudly at me “SNAKE!”. I’ve been around birds for long enough to know that they each make distinct sounds when there is danger around. The wild calls when a hawk is over head, the battle cry if a crow comes close to her clutch, and the sharp staccato shrill when a snake is in the bush.
“What? Where?” I asked her. SNAKE, SNAKE, SNAKE!! She repeated back to me. I looked at my feet, and back up to the scrub jay, “I can’t see it. Where is it?” I looked at her bewildered and a bit nervous. I’m quite sure she understood that I wasn’t understanding … so she flew right in front of my face to land on branch that was ostensibly behind me. HERE! SNAKE! SNAKE!! SNAKE!!! She yelled. As she placed her beak no less than three inches from the three foot California King Snake that was slowly winding her way up the vine covered vertical support.
“Oh! Thank you.” I said and then dashed quickly inside to get my boyfriend to come see. We watched for perhaps 20 minutes. I even had a chance to touch it once as it was slithering away, though even the light contact with my finger tips was enough for him to stop and immediately twist its head back around to SEE who goes there!
The scrub jay watched from a safe distance, and even came to fetch a few peanuts while we watched the snake from every angle. The backyard never ceases to conspire to bring me back to all that is. And it is such a comfort to know that there are friends all around me helping to guide my every step.
What is it that keeps you from seeing that you walk in the Garden?
