I AM

I AM

She didn’t know she was being followed. The Hunter moon hung low in the sky, casting a luminous, orange, glow across Georgian Bay. Saphira was wrestling with the sound of crunching, autumn leaves beneath her feet, when she’d heard the sound, again. “Please be an owl, please,” she prayed, holding to the intention that her manifestation was coming soon. Every night that week, she’d been walking along the nature path, behind Mr. Hubert’s barn, imagining landing the perfect, evening photo, of a Barn owl. She needed a ‘birds of prey’ shot for a photography contest, and barn owls were her favourite.

As Saphira adjusted the ISO in her cameras settings, to make up for the dimming light, something swooped by her head, up into the tree next to her. She had felt it brush against her dark, auburn hair, sending a quiver through her spine. Excitement? She didn’t know, but, she clutched her camera anyway, preparing for an owl. She’d take any kind of owl at that point—heaven knew she could use the 20,000 grand prize—the deadline was looming. Saphira had until 12:00 that night, to qualify her entry.

Guiding her camera toward the birch tree, zooming her lens—she cautiously, sought out what landed up above her. “Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ker,” the bird chattered. Saphira couldn’t see the bird, but the seven or eight notes, were not from an owl. That, she knew.

The bird swooped down, quickly, its wing expansion huge, swiping against her arm. A Bald Eagle. “What the—!!!” she yelled, covering her head, as the eagle glided to the next branch to her right. It stared at her, and chattered again. It’s not afraid, she sensed, oddly. She tilted her head, just then, realizing she should take advantage of the moment and grab a few shots. The eagle spread out its wings—snap—snap—she clicked, pausing, as it shrunk down into a hunting-mode, pose. One more, quick swoop, squawking louder, it landed near the trunk of a pine tree, where something big was lying in a feathery mound. Another eagle. A dead eagle. Or, so she thought, until she’d seen it twitch. The eagle needed help.

Saphira placed the lens cap back on her camera. She knew she couldn’t approach the eagles—she had no experience—and, she was filled with dread, knowing the healthy eagle, the one hovering over the wounded one, could easily rip her to shreds with its dangerous, sharp talons. Even so, her mind was telling her it wanted her to help them. It was getting darker. Moving swiftly, now, she scrolled the internet from her phone. She couldn’t help thinking what a sweet, life-partner the female eagle had.

Bald Eagles mated for life.

When Saphira got off the phone with the local raptor, rescue, and conservatory, she relaxed some, leaning against the birch tree. The man on the phone had said he could be there in ten minutes. “What happened to you?” she whispered to the eagle, feeling less anxious, knowing a professional was on the way.

“Hmm, did I create this circumstance?” Saphira probed herself, internally, as she recalled why she’d gotten into the practice of manifesting to begin with; an attempt to transform her life. She’d tried everything, and anything, to get over the abandonment.

Saphira started her healing journey after the manifestation of her camera, with the purpose of using it to motivate and distract her scattered mind. At first, she had to force herself to learn the basics; watching video after video, until she discovered the joy it gave her. It was easy, now.

She’d visited all kinds of waterfalls, walked through lush, forests, and landscapes, capturing beautiful scenery. After a summer filled with inspiration from that, she’d moved on to birds—finding, they were her calling. Photographing birds, soothed her aching soul.

Saphira was in a better place now; for too long, she had been drowning herself with a false, feeling of worthlessness—replaying the break-up; how the relationship had ended with a text message, telling her he wasn’t coming home. That she’d been replaced. Sometimes, still, when she thought about it too much, her heart felt heavy, trapped and helpless—unattached from her body. She pictured a heart in her hands, limp and collapsing with little droplets of blood slithering down her palms, onto her wrists. Like a busted water-balloon. “I am the creator of my own reality,” she interrupted herself, purposely, aligning herself back to the present. She didn’t want to travel down that old, mindset anymore. “I am happy, worthy, and wise.”

Saphira had a little black notebook she always carried with her; filled with all her affirmations and desires. Things she wanted to manifest.

Saphira called it her “I AM” book.

Jeff, the man from the conservatory, shook up Saphira’s thoughts, with his voice. “Hey, where is she?” he asked, softly, shifting a crate in his arms. He looked close to her own age, she thought. Probably around 35. He was a bit rugged, in a good kind of way, with his face, maybe five days un-shaven. He wore regular blue jeans, with a grey hoodie and a black ski-vest over top.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think anything is broken,” Jeff said, looking up from the cage he’d just settled the large bird in. The eagle had barely moved, and seemed fairly calm when Jeff had covered her with a heavy, dark, blanket. The other eagle was out of sight, now, but Saphira could feel its presence.

He would never leave his mate.

“What else do you think could be wrong with her?” Saphira asked, fidgeting with the camera, strapped about her neck. She was instantly attracted to him.

“Poison, possibly,” he suggested. “Like a pesticide of some sort.” Jeff grabbed the container with the eagle and nudged toward Sahpira, stealing a glance, looking her body up and down. He blushed, seeing she’d caught him, and she instinctively knew he’d felt some attraction too.

The two, continued chatting, effortlessly, while they walked to their vehicles parked along the dirt road. It had become completely dark, the only light coming from the moon, now, high in the sky. Jeff told her how he volunteered at the conservatory, and that he also enjoyed photography—admitting to Saphira that he had just began making plans to do a day trip of waterfalls up in Owen Sound.

The squawking of the male eagle, interrupted their conversation, just as Jeff had placed the mate in the back of his black, jeep. See, he’s been following us the whole time, Saphira thought, unsurprised.

“Better get a move on,” Jeff said, closing the back. “Here, give me your number, and I’ll give you a shout as soon as I figure out what is wrong with her,” he said. Without missing a beat, he pulled out his cell, and Saphira gave Jeff her number.

Back home, Saphira looped the night’s events through her mind, wondering if the eagle could be saved. If it was poison, how would they treat her? She imagined little, tiny intravenous tubes hooked up to the animal.

As she downloaded the few pictures she’d taken, onto her computer, she decided to take a moment to write some affirmations in her little black book. She wanted to affirm “I am a great healer,” and send positive, healing thoughts to the beautiful creature.

Except, Saphira couldn’t find her book anywhere. She scurried out to the car, remembering she’d taken it with her to the nature path. It wasn’t there. Growing confused, she started to panic. That book, held all her affirmations and desires, yes, but it also held secrets—spells, rituals—and, her deepest, darkest thoughts.

Morning came with a gleaming sun, poking through Saphira’s bedroom window, nudging her eyes to open. Immediately, her thoughts went to the missing book. She couldn’t believe she’d lost it. Her phone rang, just then, compelling her to sit up. It was Jeff. She hesitantly, answered the call.

“Hello,” she spoke, trying not to sound groggy.

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?” Jeff asked, politely.

“No, I just haven’t used my voice yet, this morning,” she laughed. “Any good news for the eagle,” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, pausing. Someone interrupted him on his end, mumbling.

“Sorry, that was Matt, he was just confirming the test results—barbiturate poisoning,” Jeff continued.

“How does that even happen?” Saphira asked, waiting intently, for Jeff’s response.

“Unfortunately, It happens to eagles a lot,” he said.

“Farmers euthanizing their farm animals, and not disposing of the carcass properly.” Jeff went on to explain in great detail, other occurrences from past history—the fines the farmers had faced from their negligence, to the many other species affected by barbiturate poisoning, after gorging on the poisoned animals bodies. Saphira was devastated.

Before they disconnected, Jeff, let her in on how last night, they’d immediately emptied the eagle’s crop—the pouch in their throat, used to store food—given activated charcoal, and had started administering fluids.

So, her little vision of the tiny intravenous tubes had been correct, she thought, boastfully. “I am intuitive.”

Saphira, got dressed quickly, and headed out the door. Though, she was relieved knowing that the eagle was in good hands, that the bird was responding, well, she still had another mission—the book.

When saphira arrived at the nature path, to look for her little black book, she had a queasy feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there, needling her subconscious. She looked up to the trees, remembering the husband-eagle. I’m forgetting something, she thought, while hoping to see the eagle. He’d be here somewhere, she knew.

A moment later, a young girl with light-brown hair, walked toward her, sheepishly. She was carrying a paper bag.

“Hi,” she said, to Saphira, holding the bag with both hands, nervously.

“Hey,” Saphira, replied. “Can I help you?” She didn’t know what else to say. The girl was just standing there, staring, in silence.

“I-I, was following you last night,” she stated, finally. “I have something that belongs to you.” She opened the bag, and pulled out the contents. Saphira’s book was now right in front of her, being held by this strange, little girl.

“How did you get that?” Saphira demanded, realizing that the sound she’d heard last night was not imagined. That it was not just the eagle the whole time. This girl had been following her. But, why didn’t she just give the book back last night, Saphira mulled.

“I had seen you drop it, and I opened it,” she nodded, as if reading Saphira’s mind. “I read a few sentences, and couldn’t stop,” the girl continued, with more intensity, her eyes glazing.

“My mom is real sick, I didn’t know how, but I understood what I was reading, and had to take it home.”

Saphira stood back, and listened. She wasn’t upset, she was intrigued. Maybe, even happy, that her book might actually help someone else besides herself.

“Please, forgive me?” the girl requested, wiping back a single tear. “My name is Jayde.”

“I’m Saphira, but you already know that,” Saphira said, with a smile.

Jayde told Saphira more about her mom’s illness, and asked if she could help her with making her own affirmations, and manifestation-spells.

““I AM” happy to help you,” Saphira said, seeing if the girl would catch on.

“”I AM” grateful,” the girl replied, matter of fact. She’d definitely caught on, and Saphira looked forward to becoming friends with Jayde.

Back home, while enjoying a take-out dinner, Saphira nearly choked on a mouthful, when she spotted her camera sitting on the desk. Right where she’d left it last night. “Oh, no!!!” she belted out, in dissappointment. That nudging feeling earlier, had been trying to tell her she’d forgotten to enter the photo into the contest.

Saphira, immediately intended in her mind… I am signing onto the contest account now, and somehow, or another, I will be able to submit my photo. Circumstances, don’t matter….

She imagined watching herself, from her point of view, entering her information onto the account and uploading the eagle photo, and then, pressing submit, as if it had already happened.

Saphira turned to her computer, for real this time, waiting patiently for the contest page to load. And, then it happened—a black background with white writing came up: Please be advised, that it was brought to our attention that our site had been down, last night. We have extended the photo submissions for another 24 hours. The new deadline is tonight at 12:00. Thank you.

Coincidence? Maybe, maybe not.

Three weeks had went by since the eagle had been released back into the wild, and in that time, Saphira and Jeff had been on two dates. They’d never missed a day talking, since they’d met, and today, they were heading to Owen Sound to photograph waterfalls, together.

“I still can’t believe I won the photo contest,” Saphira told Jeff, for the third time, that morning, as she climbed into his jeep.

“It really was a great capture,” he said, not at all annoyed by her repetition. “Especially, how he looked like an eagle-angel with his wings arched above his head, and the full moon back-lighting them, as if they were glowing,” Jeff added.

Saphira, felt fortunate she’d met Jeff. He was genuinely, a kind and caring man. He’d even offered to help Jayde with rides to school, and picking up groceries while her mom recovered from her cancer treatments.

As Saphira watched the passing scenery through the window—while Jeff sang, terribly, songs he’d downloaded for the trip—she thought, smiling, “I am happy.”

“I AM.”