The Rest of the Story

Here is the part of the story I left out on my Sunday blip, the one where I found Peanut. After I brought her home, I was going to move our tractor, parked in the backyard, close to her grave so I could shovel the dirt into the bucket. As I climbed onto the tractor, I looked up into these poplar trees, and saw a bald eagle ten feet away, about 15 feet up on a branch. It sat there for a time, then flew off low across our back yard, feet off the ground, then swooped out over the field where I found her, then circled high overhead before sailing north and away. Native American cultures see the eagle as a connection between the physical world and the spiritual. About 30 minutes later, as I was digging her grave, a robin flew in straight over my shoulder. It landed on a rock a couple of feet away from me. It sat on the rock for a minute or more, staring at me, before flying away. Many traditions, especially the Celts, believe that robins are a sign from loved ones passed to let you know that they are alright.

I cannot say that these were Peanut herself, but I believe 100% that they were signs from Nature that she is ok. We have lived here nearly 38 years, and we have never seen an eagle in our trees, especially one so low. I believe that spiritual experiences come to spiritual believers, and that would be me. I wrote a book about it. There is the realm that the Celts knew as the “Thin Places,” places where the veil between the physical and spiritual worlds is nearly nonexistent. I believe this was one of those “Thin Places.” Peanut was right there. I know it and believe it.