I want to share an unusual experience.
I lost my wedding ring about five years ago. I placed it on the tray next to the bed on the top of my nightstand. In the morning it was gone. Over the next several weeks, I tore the room apart looking for it. I even talked my husband to going under the house and removing the heater vent to look for it. Nothing. I kept hoping it would show up.
My husband was convinced it had been vacuumed up, and I was simply baffled. It filled me with sadness to lose that symbol of our special day 37 years ago.
Recently, we discussed reporting it lost to our house insurance, yet the call was never made.
Wearing my grandmother’s wedding ring now, we took a Harley ride last weekend. It was a perfect day, thanks to the lack of winter weather. It was to be a quick ride with a stop at the river. A usual place to do this was the old 49 bridge. But that day the parking lot was packed, and there were too many people milling around. I suggested we stop right past the new bridge and walk to look at the river.
The river was low. The granite rocks overpowered what should have been a fast-flowing roar underneath us. Today it was as silent as a lake. In the clear water was the reflection of the old bridge deemed unsafe to hold the weight of vehicles.
It was a beautiful view, and I took many shots of it. With the rounded bridge reflection, it reminded me of a circle or opening into nature’s beauty. I wrote a poem about that experience for a challenge. It was a magical moment that I wouldn’t have experienced if it not for the pandemic, drought, and all the people wandering about. I received a new perspective on something I was so familiar with.
We road home through the cooling winds, yet my heart was warm. Somehow, in that brief time over the Yuba River, my heavy burdens dissipated. Like my poem about the fairy singing and magic, I felt like my soul had been cleansed.
How does losing my wedding ring and making a stop at the river connect?
Two days after the river stop, I was getting ready to go on a walk on the Magical Trail. The warmer weather turned over to a more normal chill, so I went into my hat and glove drawer. I couldn’t find my usual knitted gloves, so I chose the fancy leather ones that I save for when I leave the house. When I slipped them on, a finger ran into something.
Puzzled, I pulled my hand back out, expecting to find a small child’s toy in there. It wasn’t, though. It was my ring. Yes, after five years, there it was! I put it on and felt a rush of loving energy rush through me. I couldn’t wait to share this find with my husband.
So you know, it hasn’t been five years since I’ve worn these gloves. When walking the dog, I dislike wearing them since they can’t be washed. It was an unusual choice for me because in the past I’d go gloveless instead of wearing them for that walk.
Whether I ran into some magic that day at the river that brought my ring back to me is something I can’t prove. But I felt a shift or change standing over the river that day, and then my ring came back to me. Coincidence? You decide.
My take away from that day is we can never give up hope. Do I find everything I’ve lost? No. I realized it isn’t lost; it just isn’t in our possession. Sometimes, when it is time, something that wasn’t in my possession returns as my wedding ring did.
This is how it is with writing that won’t flow. The story isn’t ready to come to you—yet. The magic in life holds it for you until then.
Mystical beauty will find you when you least expect it, as long as you are open to it. In the quiet, you will hear its message and find what’s always been there, just unseen.
Note: Winter has finally arrived with some snow! We are expecting a series of storms, fingers crossed, so if I disappear for a day or two it might be due to a down phone line or Wi-Fi. If possible, and safe, I’ll drive down the hill and check-in.
Embrace your inner child by listening to the fairy’s song! D. L. Finn