Photo-Finish Friday -- Spirit of the Air in Wood

I found this root during our walk in the mountains on Easter Sunday.
To me it looks like a goose spirit captured in the wood.
What do you think?

The Visitor

Sedation is good.

Sedation is a wonderful thing. I’m all for it. I was sedated a few times during the course of my heart operation last week as opposed to being given a general anesthetic. I slept through most of it though I did awake to experience a few of the highlights. The effects stuck around a while so when I experienced the following guest at my bedside in the recovery room I simply accepted it with little critical thought.

Within an hour of being wheeled back to recovery a woman came to see me. Middle-aged, roundish of build, brown hair and I think brown eyes, wore glasses, and had on a surgical mask. She told me the mask was because she was cleaning beds after patients left and was allergic to the cleaning products. She sat down on the left side of the bed, where there was no chair, and looked at what I presume was my chart.

"I'm March, you're November.* Girlfriend, WHAT are you DOING here?"
So I explained.

We had some more conversation that really doesn't stick with me.
Then she stood up to leave: "Next time, we'll meet on the street. Or in a bar."
I said, "Okay. We'll meet on the street and go to a bar."

She laughed and turned to leave, walked to the curtain (my curtains were drawn for privacy) turned around and blew me a kiss.
I think she preceded it with " Until next time" or "Until we meet again."
Then I went to sleep.

It felt like the X-Files episode “One Breath” where Scully is in the hospital and gets visited by an angel in the form of Nurse G. Owens.
My special visitor looked somewhat like Nicola Cavendish, the actress who played said nurse.

If it was an hallucination, then it was more detailed than any of the regular hallucinations I get from the beta blockers I take. Those come in the night and involved being covered up, which panics me, assorted shapes in the room, and my clock radio not looking right. On one stellar occasion the clock offered me a scrolling newsfeed rather than the time.

Someone cleaning the beds had no reason to come visit me. I was within 10 feet of a fully-staffed nurse's station and I wonder why someone would take that chance. If it was a staffer, then it was a weird-ass psycho lovebitch and I am creeped out beyond all measure.

I am sure it was an angel. A spirit being would know to come to me in a recognizable form, and one that I would accept.
Appearing as a cherub or with wings and a halo would scare me or make me laugh.

It felt beyond this worldish. I am sure it was a member of the angelic realm and I am tickled silly about my special visitor.


*reference is to birthdays

Wake Up Call With A Twist

I’ve had some different wake up calls over the years.
I mean this literally.
If I want to awaken at a certain time it commonly happens. Often it’s a natural progression, but a few times there’s been outside help.

A few days ago I decided I wanted to be up at 5 a.m. I’d been sleeping in, if you can call 6 a.m. that, and I wanted to get back on track. I have a better day when I’m up early.

So before I went to sleep I told myself to wake up then. The next morning I heard a deep, if slightly distorted, voice from the vicinity of my left ear say my name.
The distortion was similar to a tape being played as the batteries are nearly spent, slow, low, and barely discernable. I didn’t hear the “L” sound, but I heard “eeeaaaahh” and filled in the rest myself. It was exactly five o’clock.

Today’s had an interesting twist. I need to bake bread for my husband today and neglected to leave myself a note last night as a reminder. Instead I told myself I’d remember. This usually works.

But just to make sure today at 5:30 a.m. I got a bit of a boost. I was in that lovely half world between wake and sleep when I heard the bread machine go through one rotation of the knead cycle.
It was clear, loud, distinct, unmistakable, and came from the kitchen. It made me smile. I got up at 6 o’clock and left myself a note. I’ll get the bread going in a while.

Thank you, Spirit.

Early Morning Feeds My Spirit

The time change has thrown me off my schedule a bit.

I like to get up early and get a good start to the day. I go outside for my morning prayer cycle under the stars or sun, and often have my first cup of coffee outdoors.
The fresh morning air awakens me. It charges up my brain for the day. Best of all, it’s quiet. Or it was quiet.
Trucks rumble by earlier now than they did a few years ago and with the new housing development a block over the neighbor seems unsettled and disturbed.
It’s still reasonably quiet, though. I shouldn’t complain. But I’ve slept later this past week, so claims the clock, and that means the neighborhood is waking up, too. It’s not as restful being outside in the mornings.

That’ll change soon. I’m an old farm girl and I like to get up with the sun.

I remember summer when I nine and 10. I’d get up before 5 a.m. to wander around the farm and the sun would long be up and already fairly high in the sky. This was a few years before that infernal Daylight Savings Time and 5 a.m. was really 5 a.m.

I got away from that when I was older and certainly didn’t get out of bed any earlier than I had to when I was working. Now I don’t have to get out of bed early. I do it because I want to.

I have my coffee and my quiet time, visit some websites, check the email, and write. If I get some words down before 7 a.m. I’ve had a good day already.
Early rising feeds my spirit. It opens and refreshes my mind and gets me ready to write, even when it turns out to not be a writing day.