A sunny Sunday morning. Merlyn looms. – Amorella
Merlyn looms like the waxing moon.
Looms: [ORIGIN mid 16th cent.: probably from Low German or Dutch; compare with East Frisian lōmen ‘move slowly,’Middle High German lüemen ‘be weary.’ – Oxford American]
Waxing: [ORIGIN Old English weaxan, of Germanic origin; related to Dutch wassen and German wachsen, from an Indo-European root shared by Greek auxanein and Latin augere ‘to increase.’ – Oxford-American]
The flash of intuition runs deep with ‘lōmen’ and ‘weaxan’. Merlyn’s mind is ancient and medieval, a reflection of which is not my own. I don’t think he approves of our new ways though he enjoys the mechanics, the physics of modern times.
I cannot imagine how it would be for a mind to ‘know/realize’ such a distance in time, the rising and setting of human consciousness over the millenniums. It does not seem natural for a human mind to be placed in such a circumstance.
For Merlyn it does not seem natural to have modern convenience. It does not seem natural that HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither rooms consciousness of the once Living.
How would Merlyn discern between a heartansoulanmind of a once marsupial-humanoid and the heartansoulanmind of a once human being?
Shared or unshared memories, for example, the rising of the sun would be shared, the rising of the sun out of the north would not be. – Amorella
How would it be having our sunrise out of the north? Confusion, I think.
Confusion in the heartanmind would do for both parties, marsupial-humanoid and human. That is my point. The reasoning in the mind and the emotion in the heart would have a twist, as to feel a warm or cool breeze from an unnatural weatherly direction. – Amorella
I had not considered such a phenomenon.
You are not Merlyn. Post. - Amorella
Mid-afternoon. You and Carol are on a side road near I-71 and Western Row Road sitting in the car and relaxing in the sun and looking out at the bare trees and thistles and the like while listening to ‘oldies but goodies’ on 103.5 FM – WGRR Cincinnati.
Very relaxing – reminds me of 1958 – tooling around listening to the radio, sixteen years old with nothing much on the mind.
You had a nine year old two door gray V-8 Ford sedan with 130,000 miles on it, cloth seats, a stick shift, with an AM radio and the main focus of your life was finding a decent speaker and switch kit to wire under the rear window. It was old but faster than most any car a kid in class owned outright, most of their personal cars were stick like yours but sixes not eights.
It is another very pleasant afternoon with a few thin high-layered clouds coming in from the southwest. I fixed the bird feeder the squirrels tried to destroy before we left for Florida. Two pairs of cardinals have begun looking for food though the nearby field looks full of bird treats waiting to be taken. Last year this time I think we had had snow on the ground for about a month. Shoot, we have the windows up in the now cooler 48 degrees but the moonroof is back and open; listening to “Keeps me searching for a heart of gold” and now, “That’s the way I like it”. It has been a good day all in all, and tonight Carol is looking forward to a return of new episodes of our favorite TV shows including the new year’s episodes of Masterpiece Theatre’s “D. Abby”. Carol is reading Newsweek, she is almost always more productive than I am. I should have brought one of the Merlyn books. The first prerequisite though is to always bring my MacAir when we are off in the car.
Nothing is going on in your head though. – Amorella
“Glory days, we just sit around and talking about the old times, glory days, they will pass you by,” those are lines running into my ears from the car radio, so something is going on in my head, Amorella – a small humanity of memory. What’s wrong with that? “I got the feeling something ain’t right, here I am stuck in the middle with you,” good stuff, music on a Sunday afternoon.
Later, dude. - Amorella
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