I don’t want to labour an old, and arguably overdone, topic,
but I have to make mention again of the subtle energy of nature that hangs in
the air in my garden at twilight. There’s no point trying to describe it; it’s
one of those things that have to be felt to be understood.
Tonight it was particularly strong – almost as strong as it
was on Beltane Eve. And as I stood enthralled by the richness and beneficence of
the subtle charge that was seeping through my skin and into my consciousness, a
big Tawny Owl flew low over my head.
Is it surprising that I have such difficulty finding
anything to watch on the TV these days? What reflection of modern urban culture
could hope to follow an experience like that? Is it surprising that I’m
becoming ever more alienated from said urban culture? How can you go back to
drinking cheap instant coffee when you’ve tasted a brew made from the finest,
fresh beans? And will there ever be anyone to share it with? Unlikely.
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