Up early. Newspaper; with skim milk and a banana for breakfast. Sunny mornings for a change of pace.
The first section of scene ten is about the shamans and the second is about Mother when she discovers her grandfather is missing, is this correct?
Close enough. This will be a long scene, and, as you say, it is divided into two parts, the third part being the rest of the chapter. – Amorella.
What comes to mind is the first section, as it were, are the power engines to get the rocket off the ground, part two, are the boosters, and part three, scene ten, is kicking off into orbit.
Not quite, boy. scene ten is heading out to the moon and beyond, if you continue your analogy. Orbit is where you would rather be, comfort zone of sorts, but not much comfort in a rebellion, not in this book, as you will see. Humans, toying, even accidently, in cracks and crannies the gods pay no attention to is not necessarily a pleasant go-round for a god or humankind.
I . . .
You paid your dues, man. This is not about you. – Amorella.
I have learned to respectfully back away (in my head) when necessary.
Not one of those times. This is the first rebellion, not present day. Besides, like I’ve said before, when you’ve hit bottom in here, you got no place else to fall, just like that shadow. Post. – Amorella.
Being flat allows one to notice things.
If I could imagine, I would imagine so, young’n. – Amorella.
Over at Pine Hill, you just finished a circle of pavement parking lot and dam top short walk and Carol is still out finishing the south loop and has the north loop to go. Mostly cloudy like yesterday.
You are muttering to yourself about my spelling of young’en up above but you enunciated it the way I pronounced it at the time, and gave it up.
It is very difficult for me to misspell on purpose. I have used “young’n” before which is at least consistent, it was Grandma’s accepted spelling.
You stopped at McD’s on Mason-Montgomery Carol had an ice coffee and you a diet Coke, and you sat in the pleasurable pastime of watching the multitudes of cars going by and the woodsy area of P&G on the other side of the road. Top back so you could both enjoy the cloud layering, part sun, low clouds moving west and high reaching cumulus not appearing to move at all – you witnessed a couple circular rainbows as the sunlight pierced through the less dense cloud cover.
Very pretty, it was. Some lower clouds dark and menacing and then those mountainous cumulus builders that were bright white in contrast to narrow patches of blue sky – a fun, somewhat dramatic dance of moisture in the atmosphere.
Mid-afternoon, and you have been focusing on the two zoomed in photo representations of Ezekiel and Tiresias. The look is better when Ezekiel overlaps Tiresias where the sides of the photos touch.
Ezekiel has more personal meaning to me. I am not sure why. In the photo he appears older. I think the shamans would like to appear older rather than any other age they actually can because their experiences are what give them definition and identity. This is like me with my beret. The black beret is a part of who am I to myself first. Others may see it as a persona of who I am (an old beat), but it goes deeper than that.
Indeed it does to you personally because you have been attracted to and wearing berets since early Otterbein College days when Professor Ray, of the English department, wore one. And, later this was reinforced when you found that genetically, ten thousand years ago, you were Basque as well as Scottish. The berets you have bought have always been Basque, so it fits who you are down deep. – Amorella.
Sometimes it is awkward being strung out on a line, Amorella. I feel gangly and naked in a skeletal sort of way.
There are worse feelings, boy, as you well know. Let’s work on scene ten. – Amorella.
Scene Ten
Ezekiel found himself walking the path back up to where he first sensed the fresh air from a small cave surrounded by rocky cliff, a soul surrounded by a pronounced amount of water in its breath. A thought suddenly hit him, ‘this River Jordan does not smell of water’. Is this then the retribution for my curses on Jerusalem and all Israel; the sweet smell of a soul awash in real water? No stone house for Ezekiel to slide into for personal comfort, only the ground, this new earth made of Heaven is my sanctuary. I ease myself as a precious drop of water in the desert and I sink beneath the sands, rocks and tropical earth of heaven to be enraptured, to be one with all. Once pumping blood, now I am but the rained of Heaven.
He climbed down to quickly find this small hole in the rough stony cliff above the Jordan. I have searched these banks for Elisha and yet have found only a few wandering strangers along the way. This place appears Heaven enough but for the few souls, none who know my name. I too am a stranger yet this is the Jordan and I am home, in the heart of this new Israel. A few white clouds above set moving slowly in blue sunless sky. No sun or shadow needed in the just and radiant Light of G-D. I walk in G-D’s justice, home in Israel and yet foreign to this new place where even the few the Dead rise from and fall into the earth of Heaven.
** **
This will do for tonight. Tomorrow you and Carol are off to Westerville to visit with your sister, Cathy and Tod for the day. Post, Amorella.
The above intro to the scene was easy coming into my head with a small bit of help from Google for reinforcement. Shall I have to know more about Elisha?
The net will provide if needed. Enjoy your day with family tomorrow. – Amorella
I am thankful for the words. I would stumble all night with the first sentence, but one thought rolled onto another and the words followed in their horizontal ways, one letter at a time.
Nothing is rarely ever free, boy. – Amorella.
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