My former dog, Belinda, touchingly greeted human friends. She would delicately place her nose near their lips, sniffing lightly, and then touch her nose to the center of their forehead, the third eye. She then paused for them to get her message that they should bend their head toward her so she could touch the crown. It was her special blessing and Namaste greeting.

My longhaired Chihuahua came to me at winter solstice 2018 from the same Small Dog Rescue that rescued Belinda.

In early October, I visited a friend in Flagstaff, Arizona, 125 miles from my home north of Phoenix. Afterward, I decided to continue to the Grand Canyon since it was only 80 miles further, and I hadn’t been there in years. Gazing into the canyon from the rim above is always awe-inspiring, expanding, and revitalizing.

A sentinel and testament to our planetary state, she labors on, providing a stream of awakening consciousness and compassion to all.

The ocean journey was particularly rough as we sailed from our dock at Puerto Plata in the Dominican Republic to our anchoring spot in the sheltered coral reef area that thousands of humpback whales frequent each year for breeding and nursing new babies.

All of us who are close to animals and love and honor them as fellow beings may have encounters with our domestic and wild animal friends that are downright mystical.

Soul to soul connections go beyond whatever bodily form we happen to be animating. Souls and energy fields can merge ecstatically or in profound peace, and joy.

Summer brings Monsoon in the Sonoran Desert, when a shift in wind direction from dry westerly to moist southerly winds brings a season punctuated by big winds, lightning and thunder storms and flash floods. The last two summers have been excruciating dry, a drought exacerbated by very little rain last winter. We hoped for a good rainy season this summer.

The first big rain of the monsoon brought a surprise to my door.

I was revamping the garden of my Sonoran desert tortoise, Mo, shifting blocks in the retaining wall and putting in a few large planter boxes. Mo was trundling around, munching on grass and exploring, when he suddenly made a beeline to one of the large planters I had on its side as I was cleaning it.

With a raging forest fire about to overtake my home on Inverness Ridge next to Point Reyes National Seashore on the California coast north of San Francisco, I cried as I drove down our steep mountain road.

It’s high snake season here in the Sonoran Desert of Arizona. Recently, for the first time on the same day, I saw a king snake and then a gopher snake in my garden. Both are non-venomous. King snakes attack and eat rattlesnakes and gopher snakes compete with rattlesnakes for food and territory, so they are considered signs that you’re not likely to have rattlesnakes around.

Over the years, I have communicated with many individuals of various species and taught retreats at Earthfire Institute Wildlife Sanctuary. Here is a communication from Coyote (chief or Oversoul).