Honestly? I can't think of any that would pass the muster of religious by this forum's standards, such as voices from God or clear divine signs. I don't think I've ever seen any of those, Christian or Pagan.
I do lately have a humbling awe for our world and a deep down desire to preserve it, as a sort of duty of our species. My awe for nature needs seems to stop and my reverence for the world seems more acute lately. Does that count? It's the closest thing I have.
I'm hardly in any position to disqualify anyone's experiences.
I figure I'll add my own:
So I've been taking birding more seriously over the last year and as is common practice, I started maintaining a list of birds that I've seen and identified as well as a list of birds I was hoping to see. The birds on my wish list do live in, or migrate through my state, but they aren't the kind to visit feeders and after living in Jersey for 35+ years I hadn't seen them before. On the top of my list was the hooded merganser (a small, striking duck with a fan shaped crest that makes it look like they have massive heads).
There happened to be a weekend early in the spring when the weather was just right, I wasn't on-call, and had no other plans, which is pretty rare for me. Instead of sleeping in, I woke up earlier than I would normally get up on a work day and felt a sort of calling to go hiking by a nearby lake. So, off I went; a 10 minute drive to the parking lot, followed by a 20 minute hike through the woods to the large lake.
But the lake was deserted when I arrived, so I followed the trail that circles it and about an hour later, I was closing the loop. While the walk was nice I was disappointed at not finding any new birds and I figured I'd just head home. As I came up on the path back to the woods, I saw two Canada geese and felt compelled to stop to watch them. Now, in New Jersey, Canada geese are so common they are considered a nuisance, but I watched them for a few minutes anyway. Just as I was about to turn away, a lone male hooded merganser flew in and landed on the water right in the center of my binocular's field of view. It swam around for a little bit, made two dives for food (like diving ducks do), and then took off and flew away, disappearing behind the tree line without a sound. Despite maybe 30 visits to the lake over this last spring and summer, I never saw another one.
Some might say it was a fortuitous coincidence but over the next month, I'd occasionally feel the same compulsion to go back to lake. On each of those days, I saw the next species on my wish list; a double crested cormorant, indigo buntings, scarlet tanagers, and a Baltimore oriole. So I like to believe the gods showed me what I was hoping to see, and for that, I thank them.
