The Secret Magic of Creation

 Get Crow!

Harry Potter once said, “I love magic.”   Amen, Harry, so do I. 

Webster defines magic as: “as extraordinary power or influence seemingly from a supernatural force.”  This definition makes one think  magic is something mysterious, spooky, and unnatural.  Quite the contrary.  Magic is the most natural element in the universe.  More importantly, it doesn’t take a magician, wizard, or sorceress to conjure up the power.  If one is aware, observant, and open, magic comes in many, many ways.

 This morning, magic came to me in the form of a crow feather.

I love crows.  These black-winged, loud-mouthed, characters are intriguing, smart, and beautiful. Crow feathers are black as sin, often with hints of deep blue and purple.  Black is the color of night—and of creation. The black night gives birth to the new day.  I’m a writer, a creator of stories.  Is it any wonder why I have a kinship with the crow?

Crows share their family tree with the raven.  Ravens have great mysticism and mythology about them.  Hmm . . .  interesting.  Is it any wonder I wrote The Rook and The Raven?  (http://www.tinyurl.com/CSS92ud)

I’m fortunate to live in a country setting where crows are thick.  Every morning they greet me with their “caw-caw” hello.  They are saying, “pay attention.”  They cry out to watch for the magic of the day.  

I have one crow that is larger than the rest.  I named him Ichabod.  Ichabod flys to my porch rail, hops to the floor, and eats the cat food I leave out for the stray cat.  (which explains why he’s fatter than all the other crows) I never tire of watching him.  I love that he picked my porch to land on.  It gives me a contented, happy feeling. I’d leave cat food out even if there were no strays just so I could see Ichabod in the mornings.

I have a birdbath bowl on the ground in my backyard.  I always make sure to keep it filled because many animals, not only birds, seek the relief of water. This kind act didn’t go unnoticed to Ichabod.  This morning when I went to fill the birdbath, I noticed something black as coal on the ground—a crow feather.  A gift of gratitude for the water, the food, and my love for nature.   

.

A gift of magic.

Animal-Speak by Ted Andrews says this about the crow: “Wherever crows are there is magic. They are symbols of creation and spiritual strength. They are messengers calling to us about the creation and magic that is alive within our world everyday and available to us.”

  Got crow?

WHAT THE CAT FUR?

1.             WHERE ARE THE BEANS?

O.K.  What’s the deal?  What happened to Campbell’s Pork and Beans?

After working my usual 8-5 insanity, I stop at WalMart on the way home to pick up a few things.  I should know better.  A few things at WalMart is next to impossible.  First of all, the minute I hit the front door, I forget what few items I want.  Thus I walk around the store throwing “little” things into my basket.  Second, the crying kids, the rude adults with their baskets in the middle of the isle, and the two checkers on duty is the same at 5:30 as it is at noon.

I’m going to a cookout this weekend.  I want to bring baked beans.  I make mean baked beans.  As you can guess, the main ingredient to baked beans is the bean.  Campbell’s Pork and Beans are the best.  I grew up with Campbell’s Pork and Beans.  It’s sacrilegious to use anything but Campbell’s Pork and Beans.  But guess what?  No damn Campbell’s Pork and Beans!!!

What happened?

There’s a gob of Campbell Soups.  But no beans.

There are: Bush’s beans, Van Camp beans, Giant Value beans, beans with molasses, beans with maple, beans with onions, beans with brown sugar, but no Campbell’s Pork and Beans.

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!

Tooth paste is almost as bad.  Plain ol’ Crest toothpaste is the best.  They have Crest with mouthwash, Crest with whitening, Mint Crest, Mint Crest Gel, Spearmint Crest, Spearmint Crest Gel, Crest for sensitive teeth, Crest Pro-Health, but regular Crest with nothing?  Hard to find.

AGGGGGGGGGGGGG !!!!!!

My few items cost a small fortune. I have to settle for something other than

Campbell’s beans.  And, damn it!  I forgot the toothpaste

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!

Lions, Tigers, Fooey, and Daisy Camo

Logan James Burkett

Lions, Tigers, Fooey and Daisy Camo

Yeah, yeah, I know.  I haven’t blogged in ages.  So sue me. I offer no excuses.  Life is what it is and ya have to do whatcha’ gotta’ do even if some things get put on the back burner—like blogging.

Last December you may recall I blogged about going to see the Christmas lights and Petco with my four-year old great nephew, Logan.  Last week-end Logan and I went on another adventure to the Tulsa Zoo.  We let PaPa and mom come with us too.

I sat in the back alongside Logan in his car seat.  PaPa and mom sat in front.  PaPa had to drive, but mom gets car sick, so she gets to ride shotgun.  Logan provided the entertainment signing at the very tip-top of his lungs to the songs on his IPod.  Oh, yes, even though the kid is only four, he has an IPod and what’s even more astonishing, he knows how to work the damn thing.  I don’t even know how to turn my cell phone to mute. 

Between the 50^th or maybe the 55^th time of asking, “are we there yet?” Logan told me the first thing he wanted to do at the zoo was ride the Camo.  Hmm . . .  a Camo?

“Logan,” I asked.  “What is a Camo?”

“You know,” he answered in that little kid tone of voice used when adults are just so annoying.  “It’s that thing that doesn’t spit on you.”

“Oh, you mean a Camel.”  (I didn’t tell him those things spit like cornered cats.)

Ten minutes through the zoo gate and Logan spied the Camos.  Of course, I loved the idea of Logan riding a camel.  PaPa never has.  Aunt Ruth never has.  But Logan did.  Five dollars to ride a smelly, hairy animal named Daisy around a small circle one time did seem like a lot to pay, but I forked the money over anyway because, gee, riding a Camo is a once-in-a-life time experience.

After the Camo ride, it was off to the reptiles.  Oh yippee!  The boa, the diamond-back rattler, and I guess a rat-snake all had the same names according to Logan—Fooey.  Why Logan calls all snakes by this name is a child-mystery, but I love it. 

We ate ice-cream, talked to the parrots, and rode the train.  Logan loves trains.  So does PaPa.  The day grew hot, but the Tulsa Zoo has plenty of shade and it wasn’t unbearable, however, my feet were killing me!  I wanted to crawl inside Logan’s stroller and have PaPa push me around, but my butt is too fat and PaPa would’ve gotten a hernia, so I sucked it up and kept on truckin’.  Logan, on the other hand, ran everywhere.  But, hey, that’s what kids do at the zoo.

When I got home, I crashed on the couch and didn’t get up until it was time to go to bed.  Before falling asleep, however, I thanked God for the day.  I thanked Him for PaPa, mom, and me being able to walk so we could take Logan to the zoo.  I thanked Him for love of family.  I thanked Him for a beautiful day full of memories that will last lifetime.

And I thanked Him for Fooey the Snake, and Daisy the Camo.

  

Church of the Howling Moon

It seems like years sense I've had a blog entry.  Madison Woods Friday Fictoneers picture is just too good to let pass and it fits so well with my new story, The Church of the Howling Moon:

A Howling Moon

"Your daddy came to me one hot, sultry summer night. Took my hand and led me into the bayou where the wind blew cool off the water, and the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine hung heavy like a line of wet sheets in the air.

And there in that swamp, surrounded by cypress trees draped in yards of lacy Spanish moss and the sounds of crickets, frog, and all creatures of the night, he pointed to the inky sky. The moon hung full and round like an orange fireball ready to bust apart at the seams.

"That be a howling moon," he said.  "A moon so beautiful that one look turns your blood to a river of black fire racing through your veins. A moon so powerful it can drive you insane unless you yield to its pull and run and howl into the wild."

BENCH LUNCH

This week's photo prompt from Madison Woods for Friday Fictioneers had me stumped unitl 1:00 in the morning when an idea popped into my head.  Here's what I came up with:

Two seagulls:  Gertrude and Heathcliff:

Heathcliff:   “I wonder who will be the first to sit on the bench today?”

Gertrude:     “Oh, I do hope it’s the bag lady.  She always shares her bread with us.”

Heathcliff:     “If that mama brings her two brats to play, I’m leaving.  Those kids like to chase me."

Gertrude (chuckling):  Now, dear, boys will be boys.”

Heathcliff:      “A tweak from my beak in their seat would stop such foolishness.”

Gertrude:       “Maybe that elderly couple will sit in the sunshine and hold hands later. (Sigh) So romantic."

Heathcliff (nuzzling her neck):   “Just like us, me amour.”

Gertrude: (preening her feathers)   “Oh, Heath, you know how I get when you speak French.”

Heathcliff:       “French!  Suzie Secretary likes to sit on the bench and eat lunch from McDonalds.  French  fries today, baby.”

Gertrude: (disgusted)   “Is food all you think about?”

Heathcliff:        “I’m a bird, Gert. Get over it."

DON'T BE A SINNER!

Jean Louise Finch aka Scout

My all time favorite movie, To Kill a Mockingbird is on TV tonight.  I’ll watch it for what must be the 100th time and love the experience as if it were my first.

To Kill a Mockingbird was the first picture show I remember going to.  Mama loved Gregory Peck and since, in those days, kids went everywhere with their parents, she dragged me and my brother with her to see the movie.  I was in grade school and didn’t understand everything that was going on, but there in the darkness of that theater with the scent of popcorn heavy in the air, the first character I wanted to portray someday was Scout.  

A few years later, in Junior High, I read the book and it became my all time favorite novel.  The movie was great, but the book was awesome.  Scout came to life.  I laughed with her, cried with her, and walked that long, dark scary pathway home in that stupid ham outfit with her. 

In High School drama class I did a reading from To Kill a Mockingbird for an assignment.  Of course I was Scout.  I walked in her shoes.  I pulled her skin on and transformed into a spunky little southern tomboy who loved her daddy more than anything in the world.  I got an A+ and was called Scout until I graduated.   I loved it.

To Kill a Mockingbird has so many messages.  It’s the love of a little girl for her daddy, the coming of age story with Jem, the cruelty of poverty, the tragedy of ignorance and racism, the courage to stand for what is right, and above all, compassion and understanding for your fellow man. 



Boo



My all time favorite line in the movie was when Scout said “Hey Boo.”  Those two little words delivered from the lips of an innocent yet wise-beyond -her-years little girl make tears spring to my eyes every time I hear them.

Atticus Finch had it right.  “It’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”

A bigger sin would be not to watch the movie on its 50^th anniversary. 

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee.   Read it!

DECEPTION AT SUNRISE

Madison's prompt for this week's flash fiction gave me the chills.  Everyone has a dark side. Today I let mine come out to play.

I’m under here.  Can you hear my cries?

Dead.  Murdered.

“Meet me at daybreak,” he said.

Tall.  Dark. Handsome.  I ran away to be with him. To live happier ever after.

But no.

In the dim light of early dawn he held me, not wrapped in his loving arms but under the water instead.

Doomed for eternity to watch the sun rays weave through the trees and spread across the forest floor like warm butter.

I hate butter.

I hate sunrise.