I wake to the roar of the Breitenbush River and shrill sounds of a Stellar Jay. I open the flap of the tent and lie for a while listening to bird song and and watching the river. Downriver to my right I watch the water lap at a deadfall of fir and birch logs piled up at water's edge in a bend of the river.

Outside my tent
a circle of gray stones
paper beeches, a playhouse

I leave the tent and gather firewood, mostly poplar and pine; I drop them in a circular metal fireplace and go back to gather an armful of kindling—old pine cones and needles and dry leaves.

The fire I build feels wonderful, warms me against the morning chill. I dump some coffee grounds into a pot of water and set it on the fire. I get out a frying pan and soon am busy preparing blueberry pancakes.

I eat pancakes and sip the bitter, camp coffee while I listen to the river and watch the white water breaking on the gray river rocks. I am happy in the solitude.

Bouncing heavenward
no hat, no shoes,
under a fragmentary blue.

After breakfast I wander along the river, lost in its roar, wondering if I shall meet my totem animal, a guide for the journey. I look up, half expecting to see the graceful circle of a hawk or eagle against the blue sky. I observe the river, wondering about beaver or salmon. I find no creatures along the river path, no signs of bear or deer--only the a dense array of ferns, Douglas Fir, red cedar along the damp, black trail.

I return to my camp table, sit, and stare at the fast-flowing river for hours; it is swollen with the spring rains and the water level is high. Today is Wesak, the day of the Buddha's enlightenment.

Still, no visions of my destiny appear in my meditations. I refill my coffee cup from the bubbling pot on the grate, taste it and just as quickly spit the mess out. It's been boiling all day--tastes like burnt rubber and turpentine.

No eagle in the sky,
a little chipmunk
scurries out of my tent

I enter my tent and find another chipmunk staring at me as he nibbles a filbert that he has swiped from a bag that I have foolishly left open on my sleeping bag. We watch each other. As he starts for the door, I back off so he can leave. He scampers by me, chittering away as if scolding me for interrupting his meal.

Soon, I find myself leaving almonds and filberts on the stump of a fir tree around which they often romp.

I take another walk along the river in early evening. When I return, the nuts are gone. I continue to see the pair scurrying about the campsite.

I realize that my totem animal has found me. The chipmunks are fearless, inquisitive and playful. They are quite vocal and independent. I realize that I have much to learn from them at this point in my life.

They remind me that as I grow older I should not forget the capacity for play, spirit of independence and unbridled curiosity that I had as a child. I find myself admiring the little creatures' courage; they have so little fear of me or seemingly of anything.

In the gathering darkness of evening, I watch the stars come out and wait for the moon to rise until finally I begin to nod off. Unable to keep my eyes open to view the moon, I go to the tent, turn down my sleeping bag cover and turn in, planning to awaken in the wee hours of the morning to see the full moon of Wesak.

Soon I forget the river's song,
in the moonrise,
I listen again

Author's Notes: Wesak is more fully delineated in Part I. It is celebrated all over the world as the day that the Buddha is said to have become enlightened, the full moon in May.

Chipmunks exemplify the quality of trust since they have little fear of people. As a totem the chipmunk indicates the seeker is on a journey of self discovery and needs to cultivate the qualities of curiosity, independence and playfulness. You can learn more about animal medicine at Animal Totems.