Three days ago I returned from my ex’s funeral. Stepping out of the Atlanta Airport, I was greeted with plunging temperatures, body-slapped by twenty mile-an-hour winds shrieking down from the north.
|Santa Monica Mountains Looking South from Pt Mugu|
At home, the reception was warmer. Bugsy’s loud, long meowls lasted a good five minutes as we bumped and rubbed faces until he decided I was really home. Bedtime came late. My body and spirit linger in Southern California, where the temperatures are balmy and the time still early.
The trip was fraught with both blessings and healings, as is wont to happen at such times. I experienced the safety and shelter of being in the hollow of God’s hands, as doors and hearts opened and festering wounds healed. Gone are the chains that shackled my heart. Gone is the man at the other end.
|Monkey Paws on Seaward in Ventura, CA|
Yesterday I received an allegorical short story while sitting in the sun watching the birds near the feeder. A love story which may or may not have a happy ending, its title is “Meadow Lark and Mocking Bird”. The writing will be cathartic. More healing.
Then, during quiet time this morning, a Book Two character appeared, along with an electrifying (literally) scene to introduce him. Key to the main character’s development, 'Taranis' will help move the story from local to international and be the first ‘god’ to enter the fray. Seems the second book of my "Peace Makers" trilogy is taking shape, in spite of the fact that Book One is incomplete.
Time now to relax. Maybe a movie. Netflix. Hulu. Something with worlds and characters someone else created. Here's to an early bedtime and a body clock (please, please) back on Eastern time.
~ Olivia J. Herrell