“…Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul–
Loved them more then shining diamonds,
Loved them more then glistenin’ gold….” 

I’ve been watching the changing landscape of winter – both the night sky and what can be seen of earth from where I stand.  The lake is full to overflowing.  Only the Oak trees are dressed with leaves now, the rusty-brown color of their death.  Waterfowl are on the move, some landing for a bit of respite, others with somewhere else to go.  Geese left their unwanted feathers in the yard this morning.  Songbirds are plenty.  And the Moon, differing with each day/night – she’s not particular when she’s seen – she just goes on shining, pulling the tides as they rise.  There is snow in the mountains this winter, quite a lot – I’m hopeful for a slow melt – life-giving water.  Uranus has moved direct, Mercury has gone retrograde again.  I feel so small.  Humbled.

Life is precious.

I’m not a Tolkien fan.  In his writings though, he created Golem and I have always found the fervor with which Golem seeks and cherishes his “precious” to be oddly heart warming.   And I’ll admit to feeling a little like Golem before medicine work came into my life.  My precious was how I felt about the random feathers or bit of bone, and stones and driftwood that I had amassed.  Precious, all of them.

Ever since medicine work revealed itself to me, it is clear why I am Hector the Collector.   And since then too, much of the natural bits, gifts from Maka, have long since been incorporated into some sacred object that has gone home with someone else.  These things were never meant for me.  I was only the custodian.  They were not my precious.  Mind you, I still have a collection of miscellaneous and random bits.  I am no longer attached.  They are not mine either.  Mine is an illusion.

What’s precious though is an infinitely long list.  Life is filled with what is precious – every second, every breath, the New Ones, our Elders, those who are on the front lines for Peace and caretaking Mother Earth, those who are making certain the children are fed and animals are cared for, family, friends, communities and Circles, the medicine work and the Seekers, et al, and on and on.

In this changing landscape of winter, as the sun drops beneath the clouds and a gentle rain falls, light is cast is across the water.  A duck quacks.  Life is precious.  Life is good and so very precious.

Mitakuye Oyasin  ~  All My Relations