Some days are genuinely gray; others, gray only in spirit. Some are both.
A blinding migraine has assured the latter form, a combination of smoke, haze, and still-impotent clouds the former. Meanwhile, the season continues to advance at an alarming rate: More trees have begun turning, and another winter bird, the scrub jay, haunts the feeder these last few days.
After a summer of no rain hard on the heels of a winter with no snow, with no garden and no harvest, it’s hard to be hopeful as we head toward year’s end.
Still, the other spirits of this place, relatives all, are teaching themselves to adapt. A pack of starving half-feral dogs found us at the beginning of this year, not long before we were to lose one of our own to cancer. They have since made their home here, stealing hearts and refusing to leave. The birds have likewise adopted this place in numbers far greater than years past: whole clans of hummingbirds, blackbirds, grackles, piñon jays raising their young, their chattering presence punctuated by the calls of grosbeaks, chickadees, and now a solitary scrub jay here well out of season.
And then there are the horses, our two giant spirits of the land, one who, at that time near death, found us some five and a half years ago and refused to leave; the other new, a rescue of a different sort who now has food and water, shelter and safety. They come from backgrounds very different and simultaneously all too similar in one terrible sense, and they are strangers to each other, having first met four weeks ago this day. They are still unsure of each other, and of what it means for their own places here, and integration is a slow uneasy process. They have just been separated again after spending some four hours in the same large pen, able to come and go as they pleased. Neither is above a challenge, nor a kick in response, but they are making the effort to learn how to be, together.
And that is perhaps the best we can hope for, at any given moment, for this new world changing so rapidly beneath our feet and before our eyes: for us, for the animals, for the plants, for the earth itself, to learn how to be, together. We humans do less well at this, though. Selfishness enters into our calculus at a level far less pure than that of other creatures; in our hands and hearts, self-interest too easily becomes greed. Which is, of course, what brought our world to this pass in the first place.
But we can learn — indeed, we must, if humanity is to survive. In so doing, we can take our cues from more generous spirits, those who protect their own even as they teach us how better to be. Two of these spirits inhabit today’s featured, infusing it with their powers — one horse and one hummingbird, not merely symbolic of their own kind, but archetypes of guidance, protection, and wisdom through day and night. From its description in the Necklaces Gallery here on the site:
The Dawn Horse and the Night Bird Necklace
The Dawn Horse and the Night Bird are spirits of air and sky, medicine beings here to guide us and protect us on the path throughout our days. Wings summons both spirits onto a miniature medicine shield: a big, bold, beautiful necklace that is wearable art and protective amulet simultaneously. The shield is cut freehand from sterling silver of a substantial gauge, arcing to follow the shape of the sky. Across the center between two hand-stamped Morning Stars races the Dawn Horse, an Indian paint pony stretched in full gallop, his spirited tail flying free behind him. The horse is cut freehand of sterling silver, hand-stamped to delineate features and pinto coat, then overlaid securely. Blossoms edge the perimeter like rays of morning light, with a single hand-stamped in each corner. On the reverse, the Night Bird, of the Hummingbird Clan, hovers in mid-air to drink from a night-blooming flower. Hummingbird and flower are both cut freehand from sterling silver; the little bird’s bill, features, and feathers are brought into focus via hand stampwork, the flower’s delicate petals, vine-like stalk, and tiny leaves are cut freehand of a single piece, hand-stamped, and overlaid opposite the hummingbird. The shield’s reverse is edged on all sides with hand-stamped crescent moons, signifying the glow of night. Atop the shield is a hand-wrought bail hand-stamped in a simple directional-arrow design. The pendant hangs suspended from a glowing strand of sterling silver beads burnished to an aged patina. Pendant hangs 2.5″ long from top of bail to center bottom of shield; ends of shield are 1-7/8″ long; pendant is 3.5″ across; beads are 20″ long (dimensions approximate). Reverse of full necklace, plus close-up views of front and reverse of pendant, shown above and below.
Sterling silver
$2,225 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The horse is one of the star beings, a spirit of still-dark skies ready to carry us into the dawn light. The hummingbird is fond of dusk, waiting until the larger birds have settled for the evening to bring her whole clan out to feed, and to let us know that she is present, along with the other spirits who shelter us, though darkfall hide her beating wings from our sight.
Both beings, rendered in miniature, seem to float across the silvery expanse of the shield that is their place: graceful, powerful, yet already intent on their purpose. In this piece, their silvered selves are as silken as the rain, as the light from Morning Stars and moonglow alike.
And still, the haze closes in; it’s impossible now to tell whether the gray that lightly veils the northern peaks is much-needed rain or merely smoke. At either extreme, it’s a reminder of the work that lies ahead of us — and encouragement to call upon the spirits here to guide us. The Dawn Horse and the Night Bird both make their lessons available to us.
We need only look up, listen, . . . and then do the work.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2018; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
