S.B.T 435

refuge for wonderers

things changed this morning. or was it two minutes ago? or was it 2 days ago? maybe it was never, maybe it has always been this way. the way of the wonderer keeps a path that can move in any direction and in any dimension, but this morning sensibilities are definitively different. i think it's because of a dream i had.

unaware, as wonderers most often are, she’d been looking for someone, a friend perhaps, or someone new. a tarot layout suggested someone was coming, someone from the past it suggested. she rolled names and faces over through her head. were there any among them i’d love to see again? she asked herself, she told me later. and oddly, there were, even though she’d spent the last decade or so ignoring the memories of the past. 

you know how sometimes it might happen that “signs” come to you in a snapshot flash, or in a moment of reverie, or just before sleep, etc.? “if i could learn to stop worrying,” she said,
”i would see more of them.” 

A burly yellow tomcat Djedefre lives under the crumbling vacant cottage at the back of the yard. I put food out every day for him and his tribe.  During winter I use a heated bowl strung through a slit in the kitchen window next to the deck, set up under a lean-to book-ended wth a ramshackle shelter carved out of a plastic storage tub. Inside the insulated tub, another giant warm dog bowl, for a St. Bernard or two maybe, for keeping outdoor water unfrozen. It’s big enough to accommodate a queen and her kittens, twice the size of the one with the food in it. But Djedefre (Joo-DEFF-ree) is hefty - broad, muscular, puffed out - it’s a cramped studio apartment. Nonetheless, in January he squeezed in there and filled the dog bowl brimming over in his search for warmth, fortunate to find a cozy spot away from cold, snow, wind, and with food nearby. 
      Three summers ago Djedefre defeated Vortegen, the aged and tired despot, who'd been colony king for several years. It's what they do. Since it is obviously unwise to interfere with natural predilection, even though people are gifted at doing it, it must be wiser to support survival.
      Anyway, I was carrying a basket of food out to the back deck of the old cottage yesterday, humming along.  As I reached the steps and looked up - there he was, right there, curled up in the morning sun. He raised his big golden head and called out something to me, it was whole tone and jazzy. That moment I realized life is truly magical, pretty much every minute. He didn’t run away when I approached to lay down the goodies. He kept talking, and before I'd turned to leave, he was already nose-down. So what? a cynic might say. But cynics rarely realize who they are, they assume the right to question equals or implies the right to be judgmental and waste a lot of time. In reality it was Godlike, blessed, a magical vision. Watch the evening news and you'll understand how that works, brainwashing contrasted with nature and now. It just was what it was. a wild cat accepting and communicating with me, showing trust. It is nothing less than a prayer answered/dream becoming real. I think I know what to do next. See the new comedy. And edit the dream to bring forth enhancements.