You were up shortly after light, breakfast, Sunday paper, chores and you and Carol have some errands to run later.
I am sitting in the bedroom chair, ceiling fan on, enjoying the variety of natural light in the room. Looking out the north by northeast window are the still naked trees waiting for a greater angle of sunlight. In another thirty days buds will appear on some and the woods will hide Muddy Creek wandering in its depths. More birds and squirrels will be about more often and this Winter will begin to fade from memory. On cloudy days such as this lights flows into the room and reflects from each nook and cranny in ceiling and walls. Still life.
Use the camera and place the small photos of the scene. For your records of how the light once was from your black easy chair in late February. – Amorella.
Northwest
Strange, I don’t think we have any pictures of our bedroom. This is how I see it though. Trees out the bathroom window also but they can’t be seen in the photo. I love the trees. Our first house had none until we planted them – the lot had been part of a corn field. The photos don’t capture an Edward Hopper painting (not somber enough) but I think of him as an ideal in any case.
Light has its uses. Post. – Amorella.
***
Waiting for Carol at Lowe’s while she looks for shade grass seed. Then to Subway for a picnic at Rae Park under the bridge along the swollen Little Miami. After that, Kroger’s and home.
Let’s start the Styx Tree Story from its roots, to do this go back to the material used earlier in this books about the universe looking somewhat like an electric lit fur tree.
What I found below within the story is from chapter four, scene five.
Readers may wonder on the framework for these four novels with two beyond. In the twenty-first century people like to know where they are coming from and where they are going. As these books are bound in document, so is all life and potential life bound.
First, picture, if you would, a well of reflective glass on all sides round, boundless without top and bottom. A glowing filament of unorthodox thought and light shaped as a well rooted, tall trunked, heavily branched tree with a full leafed canopy sets centered within the interior glassy parchment giving an outwardly distanced appearance of a strange surrealistic lantern anchored by unimaginable Angelic-like Reason and Passion, both cemented and solidified by shear enthusiastic Will.
The gigantic wood-like root system feeds from the otherwise empty appearing well. Nourishment flows from roots to leaves and from leaves back to roots. When a leaf can no longer support itself, it dies. If many leaves on the branch die, the branch dies. The trunk, or the filament center, does not flicker. The trunk and branches are made up of dimensional layers based on the number of representative rings accumulated through the increase of the tree and subsequent branch diameters.
Put into an earthly proportion, this tree has a trunk some six feet thick and the massive lower branches of more than one and a half foot in diameter begin with the branch’s collar built within the trunk at four feet up. The branching is spacious but entanglement occurs when some branches find their way to naturally graft from a lower limb to a higher one and still produce smaller upward and outward growing branches. The height of the canopy of well-proportioned branches is some forty feet. Standing under this giant bushy tree and looking up one can observe one particular limb of some two inches in diameter growing from a massive bottom limb bend outwardly naturally and then back in, grafting into a higher trunk produced limb some six inches thick. It has the appearance of a long handle on a bus or train, which one might use to steady herorhimself and pull herorhimself onto the vehicle.
Towards the middle of this oddly grafted branch is a smaller one two feet long and thin with three small but growing leaves fanned out on its tip. It could be snapped from the grafted branch without much thought, but it would not be wise to do, if it could be done at all. It is true the tiny branched leaves would hardly be noticed if missing, but these leaves are noticed like delicate flowers, and observed they are, as is each leaf on this particular filament of a tree shaped with and by thought and light.
One of the three fanned leaves on the twig, the one on the right, is the universe as you know it, but from the outside as I see it. Each leaf is a universe, a direct connection with woody appearing branches and large tall trunk and a deep and wide root system. Permanent Time is built in the growth of the tree, otherwise, time is relative.
A tree leaf can have a reflection (mirror image) or a bilateral symmetry, two halves, a right and left. And, in these books at least, a universe can have a similar dispensation. Much of this comes to play in examples scattered throughout the connected series of six books.
I also noticed another comment in chapter four by the Supervisor, one I evidently had not paid much attention to:
"The Supervisor rarely uses more energy than needed at any given moment. SheanHe is nearly the ultimate conscious creation in efficient thought and in processing the earliest appropriate response possible given HeranHis wide parameters."
Why would the Supervisor ever use more energy than needed at any given moment?
You misstate the question. Use ‘how’ instead of ‘why’.
How would the Supervisor ever use more energy than needed at any given moment?
Through an influx of Divine Will – I see you are scouting the M-W Thesaurus for a better word than “Divine” and have come up with possibly two: “deific” and “godlike”.
Neither hits the ear as well as “Divine” in context.
The inference is that higher metaphysical orders exist than Betweeners involved in these books. Do you wish to deny this?
I do not agree, but I cannot deny what I do not for sure know. It appears I cannot ‘know’ something even within a fiction.
The logic is sound, orndorff. If Betweeners exist (within the story as they do) then it is reasonable to assume metaphysical ‘beings of consciousness’ exist beyond the Betweeners. Let’s let it go for now and return to the task at hand. – Amorella.
I’m fine with that. Implications make me anxious.
As well they should, boy. Enjoy the scenery at small Rahe Little Miami State Park. You watched the fast rolling river while eating and now you are in the lot overseeing the roofed picnic area and the old arched concrete bridge over the Little Miami above and behind. Your sunroof is open as is your front window. Carol is reading in the first third of her paperback, The Paris Vendetta by Steve Berry and not ready to leave. On the way home you will drive south along the river for a few miles.
Mid-afternoon, and a stop at Kroger’s on Tylersville Road. Cooler and a darker sky than when you left.
First, I only have an opening few lines from Tree but is the word “non-circumciseable” a needed word here? Most people would think sexual.
No different than the Big Bang is it? Earthy humor, boy. Deal with it. Put in what you have and that’s it for tonight. Post.– Amorella.
Grandfather Panagiotakis’s
“The Styx Bank Tree’s Story”
The anchor, my chorded root, begins unattached in a warm string of thoughtanlight produced, held and managed in a solidified Nourishstance of fertilized EnthusaWill. The circumference beyond my main root is a hollowed, forever black bark without border, a non-binding, a non-circumciseable skin-like extension of Nourishstance, if you will.
***
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