IV.
Emma loved flowers. She would have loved the flowers in our garden this year. They were exceptionally lush – yellow daffodils, deep pink tulips and pure white, fragrant yellow roses, and pale purple irises that grew as dense as trees in a forest. I looked down at the windowsill here in the blog cupola . “So, you were out picking flowers?” I said to the Phantom. “That’s a beautiful iris.”
“I picked it for you,” he said, in his low tone. “Iris is the goddess of the rainbow, thus implying that her presence is a sign of hope, and the wind-footed messenger of the gods to humankind, according to Greek mythology. She flies upon the wind and moves like a blast of bright air.”
“Like an orb,” I mused.
I was surprised that he had thought to pick me an iris. More likely, as had been his wont I suspected he would nudge me over the sill and out the open window. I was touched by his kindness.
“Thank you,” I said.
Then, “Blue, dear,” said the Phantom.
“What?”
“A blue deer. Look.” He pointed.
In the meadow, over near the woods, in a shaft of soft light, stood a blue deer, nosing the ground, foraging for food at twilight.
The wind picked up, then. The stream flowed fast on the wind with little white caps like water in a channel. The man had gone from the bank. The music continued to play, slow, meditative, but lush: now strings joined the flute – violins and deep cellos, and satiny brass, and reeds – clarinets and saxophones –, and double reeds – English horns and bassoons –, then an accompanying chorus of voices. Haunting. Where was the man with the dark reedy hair?
“He’s gone,” said the Phantom, although I had not asked aloud. “The music of the spheres,” he said. “It emanates from the deer.
“The Blue Deer reminds us that we must be stewards of our environment. The Blue Deer is a dream vision, it is a dream of finding one’s spiritual path and of healing not only oneself but also the world and environment from pollution. The Blue Deer guides us to help others.”
“I am deeply honored by his visit,” said I.
The Phantom spoke: “I vacuumed your blog for you, organized it, hung a new header and cleaned up the clutter while you were outside ruminating on the precise color of the tulips, and that “tulip” comes from the Persian word for turban.
“You tend towards understanding the realms of wisdom and healing through nature,” he continued.
“The seeds of a summer garden,” said I, “the tender green stalks upon which the caterpillar crawls before it metamorphoses into a butterfly. I’m trying to plant these seeds now.”
“Maybe you’re harvesting them,” said the phantom.
To be continued …
Samantha Mozart
For some reason the images no longer show here, but when you click on the question mark, it links to my books on Amazon.
A beautiful and dream-like entry. Like a dream, I feel like I need to sit in a quiet room and reflect on it to truly understand and appreciate it. I think you and the Phantom make a great team. 🙂
Sara, thank you. Yes, I do enjoy having the Phantom around — most of the time, heh-heh. I think we will go on together, maybe even team up in a book. 🙂
You know… I like it, up in the cupola…
Nicely done
Ever,
R.
Nicely said. I like it up there, myself.
Thanks, R.
S.
Another evocative post Samantha thank you. I swear I was right with you the Phantom and the blue deer as I was reading. I was that shard of grass on your right hand side. The descriptions of the blossoms … well I could almost smell the yellow roses and hear the music.
Those seeds – you’ve been planting them all along Samantha. I’m not surprised the irises are as tall as the forest trees.
Please say hello to Phantom and thank him from me for being there ..
I love the smell of the tall meadow grass, myself, Susan. Interesting about the seeds –they are beginingless, as I know you know.
The Phantom will be thrilled to know you thank him for being here. He is out of town while I am writing these A-Zs, but I will let him know as soon as he returns..
Thanks.
I like the way you bring the Phantom into your story. He’s that companion that visits you and at times maybe he frustrates you too, but he’s there. He sees the deer, the blue deer. When I was doing a leadership training at Ft. McCoy, Wisconsin in 1996, I woke up one more and turned my head to look out of the window, because my bed was by the window. Behold a deer look right into my eyes. It stood there outside my window and I lay in my bed thinking, hello Bambi. I will never forget it. Since then, I have had a heart for deer. I don’t even eat deer meat. So, it was interesting to see the Phantom pointing out the deer and giving you some background on the meaning. He was educating you.
The story continues to draw me in. I feel that people who read this book, especially, women will feel a closeness to the Phantom because of his gentleness.
Nice work, Samantha.
Shalom
Yes, the Phantom does have a tendency to spout off educative tidbits, Patricia. I just wish he’d stop misplacing the blog snow shovels every time it snows.
I have seen deer, been fairly close to them, in various places — here in the fields, in Florida, in the High Sierra, and in Arizona — various species. But here at home, when I roll over in bed and look out the window I see squirrels — and cardinals and other birds — in the dogwood outside my bay window. My bed is in front of the bay windows, of course. I’ve never eaten deer meat (nor squirrel).
I am glad the story draws you in, Patricia. I think it does others, too. It has drawn me in. I may just seclude myself with The Phantom and see what other stories we can tell.
You have made some good points here (edifying observations), including that the story of this kind and frustrating Phantom should be told in a book, and that the Phantom is of particular interest to women.
Thank you, my friend. I appreciate your insights and interest.
Shalom,
Samantha
Another sample of beautiful, serene, writing. So descriptive. I felt déjà vu when the blue deer arrived. Have I known him before?
Well, the Blue Deer appears in my blog post, “The Blue Deer,” Marsha, from June 2012.
Or, knowing your clairvoyance and psychic abilities, I wouldn’t be surprised you’ve encountered her elsewhere in the past. The Blue Deer is always with us, if we can see her.
Thanks. 🙂
Your posts are so beautifully descriptive. I feel as if I’m standing there too. Tulips are my favorite. I buy them for vases around the house. Now, if only I could find a blue deer…. Thanks for sharing your imagination.
My pink tulips bloomed this morning, Gwynn, and in full 70 degree sun, they opened too wide. I hope the petals don’t fall off. Tulip blossoms are so short lived.
Regarding the blue deer, I thought I saw one in my backyard, briefly, hanging around the irises that are getting ready to bloom, and that she promised not to eat them.
Thanks, Gwynn.