Pale grey clouds obliterate the entire sky. House Martins are wheeling close to large buildings preparatory to leaving us once more. Pied Crows start to show up closer to humanity’s habitats in the hope of garnering more food now that the nights are chillier and the mornings frankly fresh.
This is the time when my dreams start to take on intensity and meaning. Last night, following on from a dream in which the office building I work in was destroyed by an earthquake, I dreamt that I was the primary beneficiary of a deceased estate.
The estate was enormous, and I was taking some time deciding what to take, what to leave for others.The legacy of all my ancestors comprises a staggering amount of goods.
I took, firstly, a candelabrum of dark metal, equipped with candles. A placeholder for the Light, but the candles I would have to light myself.Thank you, Mighty Dead, for gifting me with the ability to hold this Light.
Then a couple of wooden bookends in the shape of world globes. Ah, a child of three continents am I – thank you, Mom and Dad, for potentially giving me the World. And thank you, also, for my love of learning, of reading, discovery. For my natural inquisitiveness.It has served me both well and ill – but ultimately, it has indeed served me.
A white free-standing bathtub. A bathtub? More is explained when I come close to killing myself by trying to wire this bathtub up while standing in it. I am knocked cold – down, but not entirely out – and I see that I have dirtied the tub. I set down on my knees to clean it.
Ancestors of my flesh, my DNA bears witness to your presence.
In the dreary chill of a late afternoon, upon the city streets,I watch and listen to Circulus performing My Body is Made of Sunlight on my iPod, and as I laugh out loud, a Wagtail hops closer to my feet.
In my garden,the advanced life forms of the vegetable kingdom almost beg to be ingested, and I plant Spinach, Basil and Rocket anew. All is, in fact, proceeding as it should.
Thank You.Thank You All. I am richly blessed indeed.
See You at Samhain.
Dreamtime art by Colleen Wallace Nungari