I HEAR YOU OVER HERE
Today I walked to the water’s edge. Prior to leaving for my walk, I finished a conversation about spirits as cats and cats as spirits. Before reaching the water, I stopped and photographed an ominous concrete structure built by Nazi’s to headquarter their naval fleet. On two separate occasions on my walk, black cats warmed the path ahead.
I reached the water’s edge and an enormous statue of Leif Ericson. Leif was converted to Christianity during a major torch pass. Leif served under King Olaf Tryggvason. Prior to accepting Christ into his heart, Olaf had lead marauding expeditions terrorizing the Christians. Olaf was coverted to Christianity on an island by a hermit. Norway was transformed into accepting Jesus through Olaf’s persuasion and force. His new wrath focused on the guardians of his old pagan faith. He rewarded the male völvas (shamans) with a slow death. They were tied up and left to drown in the changing tides (“on a skerry at ebb”).
I thought about these things as I looked with Leif’s likeness into the dense water. While standing there I also noticed a group of my recurring friends. A murder of crows was taking part in a bread pyramid left in the snow. Most of the local crows are hooded crows. I have noticed them speaking to me at opportune times. I recently listened to the crows talk to the dead and me as I walked through a local snow covered cemetery at the peak of a golden hour. They talk rather than sing.
As I arrived back at my residence, black cat #3 appeared in the parking lot.
I reached the water’s edge and an enormous statue of Leif Ericson. Leif was converted to Christianity during a major torch pass. Leif served under King Olaf Tryggvason. Prior to accepting Christ into his heart, Olaf had lead marauding expeditions terrorizing the Christians. Olaf was coverted to Christianity on an island by a hermit. Norway was transformed into accepting Jesus through Olaf’s persuasion and force. His new wrath focused on the guardians of his old pagan faith. He rewarded the male völvas (shamans) with a slow death. They were tied up and left to drown in the changing tides (“on a skerry at ebb”).
I thought about these things as I looked with Leif’s likeness into the dense water. While standing there I also noticed a group of my recurring friends. A murder of crows was taking part in a bread pyramid left in the snow. Most of the local crows are hooded crows. I have noticed them speaking to me at opportune times. I recently listened to the crows talk to the dead and me as I walked through a local snow covered cemetery at the peak of a golden hour. They talk rather than sing.
As I arrived back at my residence, black cat #3 appeared in the parking lot.
posted by Francis Heinzfeller at 20:40
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