Today is a birthday you have never forgotten and it happens on Flag Day. Your old male friend (elementary school days), Doug Goss, has his today, while your other old male friend (junior high school days), Fritz Milligan, has his, like you, next month. Daughter Kim was born on Fritz’s birthday and one of Doug and Nancy’s daughters was born on your own. Funny how birthdays move about – though statistically, hey, being born lands you on one of the possible 365 (on a fourth year).
I wanted to write out the 365. Strange, you did not.
How did you know?
In my head, top, slightly on my right side – a quick notion.
Intuitive enough to do.
It is patterned on previous experience, at least in this case. Sensing where something is in my head is something I like to do because it is a right brained concept to think; where is it in my head that I am thinking? I have been told by an expert and author in the field I am right brained. She told the audience of fellow educators that left brained students would have trouble in my class because most high school teachers plan classes left brained. That’s how I remember it anyway. She used me as an example of a right brained high school student in a teacher’s left brained thinking class. This was in the early eighties at Indian Hill. I do not remember the woman’s name but she was well known at the time. (I couldn’t find her on Google either.)
Fortunately for you, all the shamans or shaman-like people in the books are right brained, though like you they also use their left brain. This is a coincidence no doubt as you are the author’s (Amorella) present human brain-in-use. Post.
Yep, that would make sense, Amorella. Lucky me.
Such a hangman’s humor. – Amorella.
Mid-afternoon. Carol returned from lunch with her retired friends and you have been for a walk in the shade of trees north of the earthen dam at Pine Hill Park, the first time you have been here this Spring. You are listening to Water Colors laid back contemporary jazz on XM sitting in the car at the north lot waiting for Carol to make her rounds.
I’m glad I brought ice water with me even though there is a breeze it seems warmer this afternoon than yesterday. Carol wanted to walk Rose Hill Cemetery but while there are varieties of trees there is no canopy of leaves overhead like in the low flat leafy canyon encased end of the north section of Pine Hill. The heat from the sun is as uncomfortable, perhaps more so, than the pain in the joints.
Tonight you and Carol watched a re-run of PBS – Mystery – centered on the master detective Hercule Poirot and presently dusk has almost completely elapsed into darkness. Shall I begin scene nine?
Scene Nine
Ezekiel sat contentedly in a lone stretch of meadow surrounded by forearm tall pink and yellow flowers with velvety leaves. Nothing foremost lit on his present winged mindedness. Friends and family but no angels appear. I am exacerbated by the lack of angels. I am here as surely they are. The presence of one would be a confirmation of G-d in his Heaven.
A gentle breeze uplifted and stirred the colorful petals brightening to a slight westerly bent and he glanced upward to gaze the blue between the puffy white clouds. Why is there no sun? A moon appears in a starry sky by weekly schedules, but the effervescent light of day casts no shadows. His familiar inner voice whispered, “A sun may be mistaken for an Angel.” This caused Ezekiel to again think how an Angel might appear without his sense of earthly induced visions. Death cleaned my mind of torments and shadows, it is as filtered as spring water. How better to see and reflect on Michael, Gabriel or Raphael. Michael’s torch would be our Hebrew sun that is plain enough without a vision. Perhaps Michael cannot be seen without the sword of Gabriel gleaming. He returned his eyes across the flowers wonderful. This fair meadowland is a therapeutic presence for me. I may be resting on the healing breast of Raphael and not to know it. Not to know is a joy unto itself and makes me, at times, as free as the surrounding and passing air I do not breathe.
***
There is a start, a beginning to work your mind with. – Amorella.
I would have had no idea how to begin. This gives me something to think upon. I should have suspected Ezekiel would wonder where the Angels were, but then I did not realize what setting this scene would fall in. I would have thought with Tiresias or Takis, but then Takis, a much longer resident, better knows the environment while Ezekiel does not. I forget the Israeli shaman in the dance. Will he arrive with Takis? Do they know Ezekiel had the whirling dancing shamans in his vision of a wheel within a wheel?
You see, I gave you something to ponder and imagine on. Have a good sleep, orndorff. Post. – Amorella.
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