Rowing Rhinos

In some fantasy I made a pact with Time. Time agreed to extend my moments of delight and to shorten the difficult ones. 

Proof of the pact showed up Friday afternoon wending my way back from an errand in Berkeley. My preferred main drag from Oakland to Berkeley and back is by way of The Warren Freeway also called "13."  Part of 13 is called Ashby Avenue. On the part of Ashby between College Avenue, which is a main drag for exotic shops and a variety of ethnic restaurants, and the iconic Claremont Hotel - all white and crystalline doing its best to imitate a Swiss ski chalet, there it is a rather magical strip of road. Both sides for a bit sport houses; further south there are collision shops and the Transcen-Dental office with a Transcen-Dentist! (Gotta love that, right?) 

While chug-chug-chugging up hill Friday through afternoon traffic which begins, I think, at 12:01, I spied something new on the fence of one of my favorite Craftsman Style dark redwood houses. It was a framed photo about four feet wide by three feet high of a human rowing a row boat with one unusual occupant: a Regal Rhino looking straight ahead. The voluptuousness of the rhino's armored flesh indicated that it was well cared for and not wanting for food. Oddly, the boat wasn't tipped toward the prow.

Friday was a turning point weather wise. We'd been enjoying June Gloom to its fullest with lows in the 50s.  Friday was also Summer Solstice, so I was already inclined to lean into the light and enjoy as much as I possibly could enjoy of this longest day. It was a very warm afternoon, with just enough breeze billowing out of the deep shade of stately redwoods in back yards, front yards and side yards to make it tolerable with the windows down. 

I sat gawking at the photo as it was directly in my line of sight. The background depicted a gray bay with monochromatic ice-covered hills - maybe a fjord the duo were rowing across. I was mesmerized with my head turned toward the cool picture on my left - even as I attended to the car in front of me which kept slipping backward a bit every few moments during the elongated red light - extended on account of my pact with time to extend delight. I took in every detail I could and marveled at the oddity of this human and ancient being engaged together in crossing a fjord. What were the circumstances of this event? What prompted the quest? Where was the photographer standing? 

Gregory Colbert presented to the world a marvelous collection of photos and movies called Ashes and Snow. This rowing rhino pic reminded me of Mr. Colbert's photos - odd pairings of people swimming with elephants, women petting jaguars, a child reading to a kneeling elephant. 

Is the photo on Ashby inviting all of us to be personal escorts a là Noah? Are we meant to pause and consider being personal saviors to animals which may go extinct as sea levels and temperatures rise round the globe? Shall we all build an ark or at least get a boat to row? (It does feel as if I'm getting a little dinghy!) 

I want to know more about the story behind this display of beauty that unexpectedly presented itself to me on the ride home. 

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The other sure fire way I'm certain my pact with Time is being honored is that my daily meditation feels like an hour long deep and refreshing rest when I'm only sitting for about fifteen minutes! Such a deal! What does Time require of me? 

Well... She said I must be absolutely present in every moment - a skill I'm cultivating but certainly have not yet mastered. 

Time is a feminine feature of the world, did you know? You can tell by her elasticity and ability to contract graciously during - say childbirth's hardest contractions. She must know of the feminine experience intimately to do that. How many women do you know who have said of something unpleasant, "Oh, it's just like labor, you'll forget it as soon as it's over?"

So, Time and I made this agreement and I'm practicing presence. I still wanna know what the heck that photo of rowing rhinos is meant to signify and why someone posted it on the fence. Was it just so I could enjoy it in traffic on Solstice? 

Thank you, Universe for the catchy-eye-candy of rowing rhinos. It's a catchy phrase. Thanks for that, too. And thank you, Time, for the long cycle of red light so I could enjoy it!

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Summers are meant for languid enjoyment of light filled days. 

In 1989 I became godmother to an eight-year-old young woman from the Cree Nation. Reina and her mother Peggy were in town from outside Edmonton, Canada to see my teacher Rosalyn Bruyere, renown healer.   Reina and I hit it off splendidly in the waiting room / reception area of the Healing Light Center in Glendale California. Our friendship blossomed and lasted over decades and through letters and frequent packages I sent her in the far north. Her descriptions via phone calls allowed me to see in my mind's eye the midnight sun in summer and the darkness of winter and the toll it takes when you do not have a speck of light or warmth for an exteeeeeeeeended period of time. 

Perhaps Reina would relate to the photo of the ginormous regal rhino, horn to the skies, being rowed across a nearly frozen fjord. I wish I knew what became of Reina. The last package came back. No trace of her. No new number no forwarding address. I'd like to think it is she who rows the rhino. 

To happier shores! Good Soulstice!