I know better than to try to map out a day and think it will go as planned. This morning I went to the other extreme, and said to Rick and the dogs, I have no idea what I'll do today. I must have kind of winced when I said it, feeling a little guilty about not "planning" to get myself back to the studio, back to work. Ranger Rick quickly switched hats and became Holy Man Rick, and gently replied, You're doing everything just right.
I took the dogs for a walk on the dam, where the wind was blowing at freight train force, the way it did so often this past winter. The rowing club was out there, as usual, but it was too windy, even for that group of hard cores. Three of the boats were blown into the rocky side of the dam, and had to be carried out, with the help of some friendly fishermen.
The dogs and I braved it though, and as a powerful gust came up, I watched a pile of trash on the beach blow up into the air and scatter itself among the rocks. Damn! I was going to have to go back later with the golf cart to clean it up. People. Bah! I grumbled all the way back to camp, and then headed straight back out there with gloves and bags, before things could blow around much more. I got right to it, and raced around grabbing cups and newspapers, boxes and banana peels, a whole big bag of yucky stuff, and several empty envelopes... all with the same name and address on them.
And then it came to me - one of those wonderful/awful Grinchy ideas. I decided the only right thing to do would be to return that bag of trash to its rightful owner. After lunch I'm going to box it up, enclose a nice note, and have Rick send it off to them when he goes into town to mail some beads for me. The note will say something like, "Dear _____, While enjoying the beautiful shoreline of Emigrant Lake today, I found several items which I'm sure you must have accidentally left behind. Fortunately, you also left your address for me. I'm so happy to be able to return your things to you, as I'm sure you must have been very worried about the loss of them. I also found some money fluttering amongst the papers, which I've tucked deep inside the bundle for security. I thought you might enjoy a little treasure hunt. Please enjoy. I trust that the next time you take your family for a picnic, you'll be more careful to tend to your personal belongings.
Your Friendly Neighborhood Warrior Goddess of Truth, Light, and Beauty"
(I think it's best not to use my real name or return address. Maybe I'll make it returnable to the County Environmental Office, or the Sheriff. I like the idea of being an anonymous good deed doer, and there's really no need for the owners of the trash to thank me. It's all for the greater good...)
Walking in the wind this morning, I was feeling generally rattled and unsettled. I even said out loud, to the wind, I guess, I'm confused... and just then, a huge dragonfly flew straight at my face, dodging me by only an inch or so. I've been reading, in Grandmothers Counsel the World, that dragonflies signify transition. Transition... wow. OK then. Bring it on. I'm up for a good transition. Could it be that I'm being prompted by the Universe to become some sort of Rebel Vigilante Activist Earth Steward, one of Mother Earth's Warrior Goddess Attendants? The Dear Girl certainly needs some tender loving tending, and who am I to ignore the call to service, if that's indeed what's happening here? I wish I knew. Until I do, I'll be like Mary Poppins. I'll go where this crazy wind blows me, do my work, and then move on. I wonder if this job comes with an umbrella, or maybe one of those cool carpet bags. If I'm promoted, I'll want a super hero cape of some sort.