Land-love and Covid-19

The phone call came at exactly 1:00 p.m. No accident. One, in numerology stands for new beginnings. Every zero after exaggerates its potency. The title has been transferred, said the voice on the other end. Congratulations. Tears streamed down my face. It was happening. After almost twenty years, I was a landowner again.

All the signs and omens portended this. Astrological messages were clear, with four to six planets in my 4th house of home, at any given time. I had been looking for land for three years but nothing had coalesced. I knew the right deals flow. Spirit puts me where she wants me.

Synchronicity. I was scanning facebook and noticed a woman's post. She remarked how much she liked Arivaca and how she wanted to return and look for land. Another woman chimed in, I have ten acres for sale. Bingo! It was ten acres I knew, in a location I loved. Three interested friends had attempted to contact her the year before and their calls weren't returned.

I contacted the seller immediately. We walked the land four days later and shook on a deal. It was that fast.

Synchronicity two was the method of purchase. Before she died, Carole made me promise that I would purchase land. Twenty years on the road was enough, she said. She was not wishy-washy. She left instructions for raising funds and I promised her I would follow them when the time came. Through various means I was able to purchase the land without pulling a Thelma and Louise. I felt Carole's hand in the endeavor every step of the way, as the support of the universe followed suit. She was a pro at manifesting.

Synchronicity three was a medical procedure scheduled the week of closing: photodynamic therapy. It involved an intense light that initiated a deep burn to rid my face of cancerous cells. I happened to call the drs. office the week before the procedure to check on cancellations. It was a cold, rainy day; a cancellation had just come through. I went in that day. The aftereffects were intense pain, puffer-fish swelling and light sensitivity. Then, peeling. Sheets of thin skin shed in pieces, akin to a snake, except I couldn't crawl out of it. If I had had the procedure as scheduled, the day before closing, it would have been intolerable.

Synchronicity four was the closing date. March 20th was chosen at random. Days later I was checking my astrological calendar and was utterly shocked to see March 20th had Mars and Jupiter in Capricorn in my home sector. Home action peaks to happiness. It was the perfect day to close. This day was to give me a taste of my future and the supportive milieu. It was all systems go. Heavens to Betsy!

Would all this, however, be enough to offset the pandemic pandemonium that was overtaking the world? A low grade nervousness overtook me. Within a few days the stock market fell to pre-2016 levels, towns were shuttered and people were quarantined as Covid-19 swept into people's lungs and rendered them breathless. The global scene was surreal and nothing was certain. I wanted to stay healthy. I wanted my loved ones, my community to stay healthy. I wanted to secure this land before who-knows-what-might-happen. 

Desert Chicory,  like huge snowflakes in grass.

It was a FSBO deal. We, seller and buyer, signed separately at the title company on March 19th, the first day of spring. I hightailed it home, ate some ice cream, called daughter Hope and collapsed exhausted into bed by 8:00 p.m. I awoke in a dream-like daze, strangely disconnected. Did this really happen? The process was six weeks start to finish. I returned to the land for validation and awakened to the thrill. The hills were awash in birdsong. Golden poppies and desert chicory joined hundreds of spring flowers in carpets of color.  I walked the thick grasslands and gazed beyond to Baboquivari's unobstructed view. Carole and I had trekked up to Baboquivari's Tohono O'odham emergence cave years before; it was a spiritual tether.

From the ocotillo forest to an elegant horseshoe pond, I could not believe my good fortune. Dulce waded into the pond for a drink as I visualized a meditation spot in the middle of the horseshoe, surrounded on three sides by water. This was real.

There are, of course, a healthy share of Arivaca stories that came with this place. I'll share them as time goes by. But for now the path is one of healing: ceremony to heal the land, as the land heals me and all who visit. The vision for this precious place is a haven where artists and writers create on behalf of our wounded Mother planet.

The first order of business is to cow-proof the property by fixing gates. Then, plod through county regs and electric company bureaucracy to bring in the electricity. The well is excellent, but I need power to run the pump. Who knows? In the time of Covid-19, perhaps a community garden is in the works. The land will tell me what she needs, and spirit will provide the resources and people-power to make it so.

I sit here typing, picking at the flaking skin on my face. The symbolism is not lost. Snakes have long been powerful Goddess symbols that shed their old life and emerged anew. One year ago this day, Carole and I drummed together on a bluff overlooking Arivaca Lake. Our final spring together before cancer took her away.

I am shedding my skin, The terror and excitement is palpable. She's watching, I know ... swirling the energy into spirals. Face it, she smiles. I am home.

The porch that will become my outdoor living area, extension of a half-built cinder block house.

The land has varied terrain, from the high Serengeti-like grasslands to park-like wide open areas.
 This is the driveway to the house..

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With humble thanks to those who support this dream on various levels -- prayers, real estate advice, monetary gifts, jokes, a well-timed contact. Everything is energy. Now where did I put those 3 ml clean-up bags? Yep, I ordered 100. Bring your gloves and drop by any time! 

To the seller of the land, a wonder-woman if there ever was one, thank you for your unending commitment to preparing this land to pass on to me; for honoring the spirits of the land first and foremost. Divine intervention, indeed.