SEEING RED

Woodpeckers have a special meaning in our house. Big Madam's mum is a woodpecker. When we visited her grave some years ago, in the little cemetery at Lutzelsachsen, a woodpecker insisted upon our attention. The conclusion was obvious. This is the spirit form taken by the maternal soul. Ever since, woodpeckers have been a special reminder. My Dad was a silver birch tree. Our son, who died before being born, is also a birch tree. They too have a special meaning for me.

Some time ago I intended to go for a constitutional, trespassing on what I call the North Wood. Standing in the sunshine on its southern side, no movement for my constitutional was possible that day, as stillness called me along with the flirtations of two woodpeckers, flashes of white, black and red, high in the ash and oak. Their play was of such intensity, and they were so together, so intimate, that I was held in speechless awe. This moment came just after the death of Big Madam's Father. The conclusion was again obvious. The spirit world had brought together what the temporal world had tragically separated. That day I took no further steps. Tears of joy at the unification prevented me.

I used to wear a Shiva medallion. This was to remind me that all creation is destruction. That every destruction creates. That the forces of creation and destruction are intrinsically linked. So, also with togetherness and separation.

Today in the North Wood, another woodpecker. On the very northeast corner of the wood, a holly has come into berry, startlingly red. As red as the robin, making an alarm call at my passing. As red as the feathered flashes of the woodpecker. As red as my eyes.