The parks department in my area is awesome. There's a packed schedule of woodland activities, even in the midst of February which is a good thing considering I'm getting a little stir crazy under all this cloud cover. Some fresh air, even without the sunshine, goes a long way. Last night a couple of fellow good-for-nothing-winter-layabouts and I went for a night life hike, expecting to hear a few owls and maybe a couple coyotes if we were lucky. We slogged through muddy fields in the dark following our phlegm-swishing guide (I guess the phlegm is necessary to create the proper animal calls) and listened quietly for an hour but we were met with only silence, so admitting defeat, our guide headed us back towards our cars. As we walked along the path on the edge of a large clearing, out in the distance, a thin white beam of light suddenly flicked on, but didn't illuminate the area around it. It unfathomably spanned a narrow space between the cloud ceiling and the ground as a pillar of pure white light and then flicked off, just as suddenly. Then a couple more flicked on in opposite directions and flicked off again. It happened a few more times, all in different places and we were all pointing and wondering and trying not to bump in to each other in the dark as we watched this eerie scene unfold. And then it was over. And I still have no idea what it was.
Coincidentally, I posted this article on FB yesterday about vortexes (vortices?) of light appearing in Latvia and soon after heard from a friend in Minnesota that it seems to be occurring there as well. It seems to be an exclusively northern phenomenon and possibly connected to the sun cycles. The columns from that article look natural to me. I'm assuming (possibly falsely) that they didn't merely "switch on" and appear. It seems they probably gathered together naturally and slowly. Yet my beams from last night seemed to have an operator at a switch somewhere.
I've witnessed so many odd happenings in life, I don't even think I can remember them all. I've seen flashing strobes outside my window as a child, I've seen colors appear on a wave in the air, and I've seen the clear night sky light up inexplicably more times than I can count. In fact, when I sit in my living room and look out my north window, I often seem to catch something gray (that will shine in the sunlight if it's present) moving over the roof of a house in the distance, always to the east, always at the same level. I've walked around that neighborhood looking for some explanation (backyard zepplins?) but can't figure that one out either. I never see it when I'm looking for it, only when I'm crocheting and happen to look up, unbidden, just in time to see it moving into the treeline and out of view. Then there's the case of the disassembled brooch pin that somehow neatly took itself apart overnight on my dresser. Or that one time my house shook and the dog cowered in the corner and yet there were no reports of earthquakes in the area.
I could go on and on.
So many strange things and yet none of them make any sense. Somehow, I'm not one of those frothing loonies that becomes a channeler or a conspiracy theorist. My mind is open but I'll be the first to say, I have no idea what any of this stuff means and to even think that I could possibly make any sense of it in certainty, would really just be arrogant. I won't say I'm content to not know or understand but every time some new peculiar thing happens, I make peace with it. But there is this one burning question...
Some people go their whole lives and see nothing out of the ordinary. Why am I different?
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