When I went out for my walk tonight I shone the torch on the dead pheasant which somebody (or something) had moved off the road and up close to my gate. I felt the ghost of an expectation that its head might lift, and its lifeless eyes fix me with an accusatory stare. It, and they, didn’t, of course. The poor thing continued to lie a still, silent, squalid mess, and I felt guilty all over again.
* * *
But what I am now seeing with increasing frequency are bright, moving shapes of varying sizes in my peripheral vision. I’m getting used to them, but their sudden appearance still startles me sometimes. I have little doubt that the mundane explanation applies – they’re presumably just some curious little aberration of the eyes or brain. But you never know, do you? You never know what a mind might be capable of perceiving one way or another when it’s doing its best to become increasingly attuned to more extended levels of possibility.