In the thick of it

There was a pancake fog over Oklahoma, this morning – the part I call home, anyway. From the apartment window, I could see very little of the water’s edge; and the idea that there was anything beyond it seemed like just that – an idea, constructed, and I was just now waking from the human dream. 31505 was an island in the clouds. The fog’s density insulated our acre from sound and deep, comforting quiet expanded time. Mother Earth encouraged the morning to linger; inviting me to live a bit longer in her fairytale setting, as she drew in and exhaled sacred breaths that I could FEEL in the stillness.

I wanted to stop on the lake’s dam and capture a couple of dedicated fishermen with my camera’s lense. They huddled their boats around a water tower (?) that sets just off the bridge, suspended like ornaments in a surreal space. The less than 40 yards’ visibility and lack of shoulder deterred me, however, and I was consoled by remembering the picture below.

This was taken a couple of weeks ago, on the weathered road that meets our paved Ingram. On this day, I could sense the fairies and elves, gnomes and elementals taking advantage of the cover to venture further outside of usual territory; fulfilling much-needed business, and surely exploring things which would otherwise risk the entanglement of worlds.

Not everyone is open to the magic of life; and even if you are, it doesn’t mean you wear black and brew rats. I am endlessly thankful for my creative instincts, and have experienced so much diverse, divine communion that “wild horses couldn’t tear me away”.

I invite you to ignite your shaman self!