Following The Signs and Symbols 2

This seemingly empty space has been calling to me for several weeks now. Invariably, my fingers twitch a bit when it does, but I find excuses not to answer that call: I’m too busy working on my project, need to find those pages in my computer files, have to work on those images I want to use, need to fix myself something to eat, and so on and so on.

Although I have been writing, it is poetry and that has been only once a week for the wordle challenge at The Sunday Whirl. Those pieces appear on my poetry blog at Soul’s Music. So this space remains blank. Empty except for all those old posts that people still come here and read.

This morning I was doing a bit of research, so headed to my closet/library, but couldn’t locate the book for which I was seeking. Did find a part of a journal I kept during my first ever road trip out to Montana in 1993. Several of those entries made me smile in recollection, and one had me laughing out loud.

Throughout those pages, I found comments I had made about all the birds and wildlife we were encountering. One especially, had me sighing in deep satisfaction. We had taken a side trip to explore a park, led there by a small road sign. It turned out to be over twenty miles, much of it through flat barren landscape. The ‘park’ turned out to be a historical marker with a set of swings for kids to play on and possibly to allow it to be defined as a park. Disappointed, we headed back to the car where my partner in crime decided it was her turn to drive. The way out was a straight gravel road about two miles long that led to a paved two lane highway. Upon reaching that intersection, my friend stopped and said she couldn’t remember which way to turn to get us back to the Interstate. Shrugging my shoulders, I pointed right with my thumb and said, “Maybe?”

Two huge ravens swooped past, low to the ground and following the road to which I had just been pointing. They were the first living creatures we had seen since leaving the Interstate in what seemed like hours. We followed the ravens. I remember making a comment about how their wing spread seemed to be as wide, if not more, than the rented minivan we were driving. They stayed, soaring just above the pavement out in front of us, until five minutes later when we reconnected with the Interstate, well over twenty miles from where we had originally left it.

As we settled into more driving, I turned to her and said, “You asked for directions and you certainly got it, and two guardians guides to make sure we didn’t get lost.”

So, here I sit, all these years later, knowing I’ve been lost for a while. Not even aware that I have been seeking direction, and yet finding it once again in my own words, carried on the wings of two huge ravens. Maybe next time, I’ll tell you about that episode that had me laughing out loud.

Note: Image is one of a series of pen and ink doodles I did several years ago, simply titled Fantasies.