"The glacier knocks in the cupboard, The desert sighs in the bed, And the crack in the teacup opens A lane to the land of the dead."

-W.H. Auden

Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow. Show all posts

Thursday, January 22, 2026

Presence Out of Context/Underworld


Message, January 21, 2026. 7:21 PM.

Question: If you were dreaming right now, do you think you would sense the presence of the you who was dreaming? The presence of your sleeping self?

If you could, do you think you would recognize yourself as that presence?

I ask because this evening, I was out in town. The sun was below the horizon, but the sky was still a luminous (if ominous) grey. The lights of the town suddenly seemed to become more distinct, more vivid, with a strange depth. Despite the people and the traffic and the shops all around, I could feel the miles of snowy landscape around me, like a sort of echo.

It all felt slightly unreal. Memories flitted through my head not quite at random - us standing outside the art museum in the November wind, you and me on that drive from Texas to the Midwest. Other, things, too. It all felt similar somehow.

It wasn't just cold grue, but layers of it, like layers of time.

The radio played "wrapped around your finger" and it all felt so haunted that I began to question it, the meaning of it. It was as if I were hearing the song in its proper setting for the first time, the proper context, which allowed me to detect an essence I'd never noticed before. Something liminal. What was it I sensed?

My stream of consciousness was like so:

Underworld landscape. What would it feel like if you were dead and didn't know it? Would it feel like this? No, not quite. We are not entirely ghosts. We are something else. Has the rest the world disappeared, has the real world been obliterated and left this shadowy world behind? No, not quite that, either.

And what was the eerie, nameless presence in the atmosphere?

When running through all the iterations of what this was like, I realized that it was most like a dream, but as seen from the other side.

As if I were in the dream without knowing that I was being dreamed.

Except for the nameless, eerie presence of something unknown. 


***


It's been a few days since this happened, and I'm still thinking about it. Would you recognize your own presence out of context? The remnants of your own energy in a place where you used to live? 

Or (as my husband pointed out) the presence of your higher self, the eternal self that already knows all? 

I told him, if that were the case, I could think of two times such an awareness could become evident: if your higher self intervened to nudge you in a necessary direction, or that you, in your physical existence, had become so nebulous that you began to blend into that other world. 

I still wonder which one I experienced. 

But I suspect I know. 

Friday, January 19, 2024

Pluto, 29° 59'

It's the time of endings, and even the birds are restless. Footprints in the snow, walking away. I see (to my surprise, though it really shouldn't be) that I wrote this exactly 2 years ago, and this nearly 3 years ago, and wouldn't you know it's all to do again, because submission to Fate is a constant process, it doesn't matter in the slightest that you are so very tired now.

Thursday, January 20, 2022

Winterlude

Being that we're under a winter weather advisory again, I can't help but be carried back to last year's storm, which was no ordinary storm, not even a freak storm, but something dark and ominous, even before the lights went out. Or maybe it just seemed so me, a Texan who's never been so cold in her life.

Is it silly to admit that with the onrush of cold wind last night I felt a tinge of fear? 

Snow has always been a short-lived novelty in this area, but it's becoming more and more common. Perhaps it will become so common that we'll even start buying mittens, so we don't have to try to catch snowflakes with our chapped and frozen fingers, like I did last year.


There are certain days when winter seems like its own world, and this is one of them.

Saturday, February 27, 2021

Moon Lantern

You mustn't think I don't know.

No one will ever watch longingly as I walk into the dark with my moon lantern.

It troubles me that you think I don't know. 

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

In The Woods/Black Wings

 The woods are what they are, and there's nothing more to say.