Saturday, July 15, 2023

The Three, Gossip, And A Fly Bye.


The Three met last night to discuss important things that needed discussing.  Things like the weather, flooding, other people, rumors, gossip, the state of affairs, and why Trump should be incarcerated.  You know important things.  Not to spread further gossip, but to add a sprinkle of healing into the mix so folks can get beyond the rumor mill and look forward.

When the Three get together strange things happen.  Suddenly birds in the area begin to talk back and forth.  They answer questions, and sometimes seem either amused or slightly irritated.  Birds are like that.  They can be fickle creatures.  

The neighborhood dogs would begin barking in unison, and squirrels bounding from tree to tree antagonized the dogs as they chuckled at the Three.  In jest I often refer to squirrels as angry creatures, but the opposite is actually true.  Squirrels are mischievous little buggers with a serious sense of humor.   Two times, at least, in history have squirrels influenced the development of mankind with a practical joke.  The first was the acorn tossed at Gautama as he sat under the Bodhi tree just before attaining his ultimate enlightenment. Being beaned in the head by a well tossed acorn can do wonders.  The second was when Sir Isaac sat under a tree and was bopped on top of the head by a well aimed apple.  No one ever speaks of the squirrel atop the tree, little bugger.  An applied lesson in Gravity. 

Clouds took positions and layers in the sky that can not be replicated by any artistic practice of man.  If tried onlookers will not believe that the painting was a real event.  

Stories shared by the Three, embellishment an art, promoted the spiritual growth of listeners and receivers of mystical things.  Just as the night's end began to take shape and gazing at the evening sky was the thing to do, an object was seen flying high over head reflecting white in the last sun.  The object moving slow and silent, but left no trace nor could it be heard.  So bright was the sky rider that no real shape could be discerned.  It flew into the Northeast to take an abrupt right angle turn to the North and disappeared in the cloud. 

No guiding lights, no running lights, no markers what so ever, just the bright light, then gone.   A sleepless night, a busy night, leaving wonder in it's wake.  

Peace and Balance,