First Frontier Days, Part 2

She happened upon a cool, dark forest dominated by cedar and interspersed with pine. Immediately the vibe took on a magical quality. If there were a sacred place in the land between the rivers, this was it. Her tread lightened in response to the divinity thrumming through the air. Immediately to her left was a pond. Frog eggs laid earlier, when there had been more water looked like clear slime on the wet oak leaves that rimmed the water. They were still over 100 meters from the structure marked on a historic topographic map. Breaking out of the conifer stand there was immediately visible a large cistern ringed by blooming daffodils. This was magic, here.

Do you remember when you were a child, perhaps two or three years old, and you had memories about your future? Those sort of waking dreams of innocent knowing? Then, decades later you realize you remember this moment, exactly, from the childhood memories of your future life? De j’ai vu squared. Your soul begins a mirthful laughter, an exalted song, knowing you are EXACTLY WHERE YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE, RIGHT NOW.

With the inkling of where RIGHT NOW is heading, the laughter increases threefold. Could it be? Could it really, really be?

But beyond this, I am at a loss to describe this feeling, this knowing, this sacred being.



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