Skip to main content

NOVEMBER NICETIES


Winter is upon us, but November in these parts feels like high summer. The excessively wild, overrun garden which was blessed with a thriving monsoon had been pruned, hacked and trimmed prim ‘n proper a couple of weeks ago.

Bare, except for a few sprouting shoots, the swarms of multi hued butterflies of various proportions, dragonflies buzzing around and the most miniscule of hummingbirds savoring the last honeyed drop of nectar from the waning blooms—a variety of life that thronged our garden have deserted it.

Nature goes still and everything has quietened…it's hibernation season for the wildlife. 

Except for the piercing call of the Coucal that heralds its arrival as it swoops down from its inconspicuous nest snuggled on a nearby luxuriant herbage making my garden come cheerfully alive.

Strutting on the common, low brick walls parting the houses next door and also along the gates and on flowering shrubs fringing the row of houses across from mine, its glossy,indigo feathers highlighted with streaks of midnight blue glisten in the rising rays of the dawn, a stark contrast to it's burnished cider wings fanned out regally!

A regular visitor in our garden, perched on the gnarled branches of the Hibiscus shrubs, it's always in my line of vision during my morning walk. As I soak in the first warmth of the sun rays before the day gets too hot and sweltering, its watchful ruby red eyes dart swiftly and fixedly following my every move.

My stalker of the avian kind, my silent cheerleader observing every minute progress I make 😀

Sightings of the Coucal or Pheasant Crow is also a symbolism of good luck and great fortune. And great fortune it has bestowed upon me by playing the role of my spirit animal, shadowing me with its noble presence everyday, the moment I set foot outside for my physio workouts. 

My prayers as I bow down to it with folded hands have always yielded fortuitous results since my childhood and my faith in every wonderful creation of God has been as steadfast as have been my beliefs in folklores that have been passed down generations.

Locally known as the Ratna Pakshi, my reverence for the Coucal --once upon a time which was ideally on a spiritual level, has now transcended to a sterling plane after my miraculous mend, its once rare appearance now elevated as a benevolent harbinger professing good…better…flourishing times ahead.

The heavens communicate in the language of vibration and energy. The more I'm in the process of syncing with it, the more I understand its assurance, guidance and prophecies.

As for my healing, I'm recovering by leaps and bounds, striding towards a newer me, fitter, stronger and nourishing my self care more than before. 

‘NO’ vember! A time to say NO to everyone and everything that drains me on any or every miniscule level. A precept that will be the foremost for every precious moment that has been granted to me as a generous divine boon from the highest heavens.

Glory be to God !

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Pic Courtesy: Pinterest 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

CHAPTER 1: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This post is Chapter 1 of short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes it anchors you like gripping oak roots. Every day for the next seven days, Xiu-Ying will welcome a new traveler seeking refuge from their heavy burdens, reading their futures in the settled leaves and guiding them toward peace as the seasons shift on the ridge. Welcome to The Jade Shambhala Tea House!                               CHAPTER 1                            EARLY SPRING  Ko-San Tê Bai Mudan (White Peony and Red Dates) The morning mist in the rolling hills of the 1980s Taiwanese countryside did not rise; it dissolved, burning away into thin silver threads under the persistent warmth of the early spring sun.  The Yun-Shan Ridge grew f...

FINALE: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

                                                      FINALE             The Gift of the North Wind The morning sun over the Yun Shan Ridge always arrived with a slow, quiet patience, filtering through the thick pine needles until the mountain mist glowed like pale green silk.  Inside the Jade Shambhala Tea House, the iron kettle was just beginning to hum over the hot charcoal embers. Lin Xiu-Ying sat at the long wooden counter, her hands wrapped around a warm clay cup, listening to the stillness of the forest. Three winters ago on a night when the mountain was locked in a fierce, unyielding blizzard, the wind and the sea had their own ideas. ***** She didn't choose to board that trading merchant boat down in the southern spice ports. She was just a tiny, silver-white kitten, shivering behind a stack of cinnamon crates...

CHAPTER 2: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

      This is a part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic tea blends from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each. Welcome to the tea house!                             CHAPTER 2                      LUNAR NEW YEAR          Kim-huan Tê ( Golden Lily Oolong) The early spring air hanging over Sian-Phô village was heavy, smelling faintly of spent sulfur from the Lunar New Year firecrackers and the cold, sharp scent of wet pine needles.  Up on the Yun-Shan Ridge, the festive red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the low wooden cottages were damp and water-logged, their brilliant scarlet dye bleeding slowly into the persistent gray mountain mist. The holiday had just ended, and while the rest of the village was settling into the quiet hope of a new agricultural...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

                          CHAPTER 16                    THE BIG BAD WOLF  The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about.  The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

CHAPTER 3: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This episode is part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala.  Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes anchors you like gripping oak roots. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic blends of brew from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each.                              CHAPTER 3                     SPRING EQUINOX   Tang-hng Bí-jîn (Oriental Beauty leaves) The morning mist on the Yun Shan Ridge does not merely roll over the peaks; it breathes. Right in the middle of the Spring Equinox, the rigid spine of the winter chill finally breaks, replaced by a tart apple blossom aroma and streaks of sunbeams lancing through the budding Magnolia tree in the centre of the garden.  The slopes of the mountain are alive with the pale pink of wild peach blos...