Last week, I went hiking in the Rio Grande Gorge, near Taos, New Mexico. The day ended up being even more magical and special than I could have imagined. I hiked alone, in quiet contemplation and meditation, as I usually do. The day was beautiful, and I was alone on what is often a popular trail. It goes to the rim of the gorge, with stunning views of the Rio Grande River many hundred feet below.
After spending some time on the rim, I turned back, feeling so grateful, and complete. And then, I saw them. Rocky Mountain Bighorn sheep, just a few dozen feet from the trail, hanging out, doing what bighorn sheep do… grazing, resting in the shade, poking about on the rocks, hanging out together.
I’ve never been so close to them, and I stopped in my tracks in awe. They turned and looked at me, and continued on with their sheep-lives.
Except for this ewe. She hopped up on a rock, and looked at me. I stayed still and quiet, open to connection and communication. The first thing she said was, “Are you going to shoot me?” and I immediately saw, through her perspective, my hiking poles, looking quite similar to a gun from a bighorn sheep point of view. I said, “No, I won’t hurt you, I am so grateful for your presence and your beauty,” and quietly lay my poles down on the ground. I began to sing and chant softly, a practice I often share with wild animals.
As I sang, expressing my gratitude for her presence, her beauty, and offering prayers for her protection and for the safety and good health of her herd, I was filled with a powerful sense of her energy: her grace, her agility, her peacefulness, her deep awareness and presence.
We stayed like this together in time out of time. At one point, she lay down on the rock, resting.
At one point, she turned, and I saw what looked like a wound on her neck. I asked her, “Are you okay? Are you injured?” She replied, “Yes, I am okay, I am well.” She showed me how her body felt: strong, healthy, fluid. I’ve learned to trust what I get from the wild ones… and to not impose unnecessary concern on them based on my human thoughts.
We continued in peace, connection, and presence, just being with each other. Finally, I realized that the afternoon rains were starting to build, and that I needed to start back to the trail-head. I looked at my watch, and realized that over 30 minutes had passed.
When I returned home later that evening, my human thinking mind was still wondering about the wound I thought I saw on the ewe’s neck. I looked at some of the photos more closely, and indeed, there was a wound. I connected with her again, and asked if she’d show me what had happened.
Immediately, she gave me the whole picture: sights, sounds, feelings. She had narrowly escaped from a mountain lion. I saw her on the rocks of the gorge, with the mountain lion leaping toward her neck from below; she bounded up the rocks at the same time. The surface layer of her skin and fur was torn, but she wasn’t badly injured, and the lion gave up and decided to look for easier prey.
What a gift and teaching this encounter was for me. I am carrying the felt sense of the ewe’s energy with me still: her grace, her peacefulness, and her calm, centered presence.
This is especially helpful for me in this time… and I share this connection and the images of this beautiful being in Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep form, inviting you to feel and be blessed by her energy and presence, as well.
With love,
Nancy
P.S. If you’d like to learn more about communicating with animals and all life, please join us for our next in-person Arizona Animal Communication Workshop in Flagstaff.
