I don't know about you, but Mother Nature and I go back a few decades...maybe even a few lifetimes. She always wins. LOL
I've always had a unique connection with animals. Some people call it intuition, some call it energy, and others might simply say I have an active imagination. Whatever it is, animals have always felt like old friends.
The very first animal I remember connecting with was our long-haired calico cat, Mittens. She was rescued as a tiny kitten from a friend's farm, and I instantly fell in love with her. I was very young, and every night she would sleep on my head, drape herself across my neck, or curl up beside my face. I constantly woke up overheated, but I never wanted to move her.
Over the past few years, several people have suggested that Mittens may have been my familiar or spiritual protector when I was growing up. Whether that's true or not, it certainly resonates with me.
My mom used to laugh because I talked to Mittens like she was another person. Actually...I talked to all animals that way. At the time, I honestly believed everyone did. It wasn't until much later in life that I realized maybe that wasn't so common.
As I got older, my connection with nature only grew stronger.
When I needed space, I would wander alone through the cornfields behind our house after dark. Most people would have found that creepy. I found it comforting. The woods, the night, the sounds of nature...they never frightened me. They felt more like home than anything else.
Years later, while working on a golf course nestled in the mountains, I shared the landscape with black bears, mountain lions, coyotes, rattlesnakes, mule deer, skunks, hawks, and countless other wild creatures.
Was I cautious? Absolutely. Was I afraid? Not really.
Instead...I talked to them.
My boss constantly reminded me that "the animals aren't Disney characters!" I'd just laugh.
Every morning I'd greet the mule deer like old neighbors…..and scold them for eating my flowers.
I had a regular "meeting" with the neighborhood skunk as it ran next to me in the dark going up to the clubhouse.
Whenever I worked near the flower beds on the 13th tee—very close to where a mountain lion had her den—I would call out loud enough for her to hear:
"Listen...I know I probably look like a delicious snack, but I'd really appreciate it if we could skip that whole food-chain thing today."
Thankfully, she always agreed.
I never actually encountered a rattlesnake in those flower beds, although plenty of people did.
Now here's the funny part...
Several coworkers insisted there was an enormous bullsnake living in one of the wedding flower beds. Looking back, I'm pretty sure I accidentally stepped on it over the years...and somehow never even saw it.
Only me.
I also found myself face-to-face with black bears on several occasions.
So if someone asks me that viral question...
"Would you rather be alone in the forest with a bear or a man?"
My answer? A bear.
Without hesitation.
People often associate red cardinals with messages from loved ones who have passed away. While I think cardinals are beautiful messengers, I've found that Spirit speaks through many different animals.
For me, crows and ravens often appear during times of transformation or deep wisdom.
Owls seem to arrive when hidden truths are ready to be revealed.
Dragonflies remind me to embrace change and lightness.
Butterflies whisper about transformation. And then there are dragons.
Yes...dragons.
During drumming circles and meditation journeys, dragons occasionally appear alongside many other spirit animals. I'm still learning what they represent for me, but every encounter leaves me curious and wanting to explore deeper.
One thing I've learned is that animal messages don't always arrive through a physical encounter.
Sometimes they show up in dreams.
Sometimes they're in a book that practically falls off the shelf.
Sometimes it's artwork, jewelry, a random conversation, a song lyric, or someone mentioning the same animal over and over again.
Spirit has an incredible sense of timing.
When an animal keeps appearing—whether physically, symbolically, or repeatedly in unexpected places—it's worth paying attention.
Coincidence?
Maybe. I don’t believe in coincidences. A message?
Quite possibly.
The next time an animal keeps crossing your path, instead of asking, "Why do I keep seeing this?" try asking:
"What are you trying to teach me?"
Nature has been speaking to us long before humans ever learned to write.
The real question is... Are we listening?