The sun was setting when Joel knocked on the door and took her back to the stables with him. The inn keeper had given him enough supper for them both. They ate and were full for the first time since leaving. The horses got quiet. Joel put a finger to his lips and crept silently to the door and listened. When he came back, he said quietly, “No one is supposed to arrive tonight, and it’s quiet outside, but I don’t want to talk loudly in case someone is nearby.” Noella nodded. “What name did you give?”
Although the rain ended during the night, swift clouds still scudded across a dark sky. Noella was glad for the hood on her cloak. They walked near the edge of the woods until they heard the echo of a hunting horn. Joel put up a hand and listened carefully scanning the trees and sky, as he did so.
“They’re a distance away,” he said, “but I don’t want to chance it.” He gestured towards the woods. When they reached the safety of the trees, he stopped. “I’m glad your cloak is dark. A bright color would stand out, especially in the open. I think we need to stick to the woods for a while.”
I sometimes hear people say, “I don’t dream.” Everyone dreams, but not everyone remembers them. There are several things you can do to help you remember. They fall into the categories of 1) priming your unconscious, 2) how to fall asleep, and 3) recording.
If you do not remember your dreams, do the following during the day. Let your mind wander. Day dream about things you would like to dream about at night. Actually, just start daydreaming in general. If you can remember some images, let thoughts of them flit through your conscious mind. Either way, don’t dwell too much on details.
“We’re friends, right?” asked Noella.
“Sure, yah,” said Joel wondering why she was asking.
“Why are you asking?”
“I need to do something, and I need your help.”
“You know you just have to ask.”
“It’s not that kind of favor.” They were sitting by the fountain in the kitchen garden of the manor. Noella knew no one would bother them there. They were allowed to go into the back gardens, and it was their lunch time. She unwrapped the sandwich she’d brought, and tearing it in half, handed one part to Joel. She watched him take a bite.
You navigate the storm
Your wings tilting, the landing may not be
Noteworthy except that you landed at all.
You weren’t pushed to the ground
Oh, no, not you.
The wind almost does your bidding
And the pelting sleet sings harmony with you.
Not a dry nest for you,
You choose the top of the branch
Where wind buffets.
You laugh, cawing into the rain
Why not choose the fur tree?
Sit near the trunk where it’s calmer
If not a bit warmer?
I check my window again.
You’ve been out there an hour.
You enjoy this? Don’t you?
You, in the middle of the maelstrom.
I use a number of interesting websites when I write. I thought some of you might be interested in looking through them on your own. My style of writing can be called visionary, mystic, new age, metaphysical and spiritual. I write to encourage others towards personal transformation.
My characters seek to improve their understanding of their place and purpose in the universe in order to improve their lives and the lives of people with whom they come in contact. Therefore, many of the websites are about symbols, chakras, creative use of numbers (numerology), and religions/ philosophies. I Google everything (Who doesn’t!) and use Wikipedia a lot, too, as well as sites that provide meanings of names. I’ll not get into a discussion of incorrect info on the web. We all know it’s there. So, I check several sources.
Rod Stewart’s cover of Broken Arrow was playing in the store. He noticed because a person does not ordinarily hear that song in the mall. As he cocked his head to listen, a man leaning against the wall approached him.
“Do you like found objects?” the man asked.
“Not particularly.” He started to move on.
“Oh, too bad; they’re significant.”
“Why is that?” He wasn’t interested in either the man or his ideas, but a gentleman by nature, he stopped instead of brushing by.
When I attended Black Hills State University in Spearfish, SD, the student center often hosted interesting and unique art shows. One memorable show was Dick Termes’s fascinating, rotating spheres that are like viewing objects reflected in something curved except that his spheres are both the curved reflector and the object being reflected. The pictures on his website do a much better job of showing you what they are than any description I can offer. You can Google his name.
My favorite show was of Native American art. I do not remember but am assuming it was art of the Lakota Sioux. The only piece I remember clearly was a pot, or maybe it should be called a vase. The pot, in size between a cantaloupe and a basketball, was the shape of an egg and sat upright on its larger end. The first thing that made the pot unusual was that the opening, at the top of the smaller end, was jagged as if an egg had been cracked around as it would be if it were sitting in an eggcup.