Friday, July 27, 2012
Late afternoon. Feeling an unexpected urge to begin jotting down the rough draft for this post. Going with it even though I would be heading out shortly. Positioning myself in the centre of the sofa, out on the back deck. That entire area covered by a glass roof. With a wall to my back and another to the right, this space open to the elements on only two sides. Mere minutes into the process, noticing something drifting down beside me, then landing on this couch. Directly to my right. Gazing down at a small, delicate, light grey feather. No recollection of ever seeing one like this here before. Immediately looking skyward to determine its origin. Trying to make sense of a seemingly impossible occurrence. Seconds later, putting two and two together. At least an aspect of it. Recalling my discovery of tiny white feathers on the morning of Michael and Kelly's accident. Those, the same size as this one, just fuller. Two of them lying there on the mat, just steps from this sofa. This time around, recognizing it to be a sign from another young man. One I did not know. Dear to a close friend of mine. She emailing me earlier in the day after having been informed of his accidental death due to being hit by a car. Occurring two days prior to this correspondence. Leaving her feeling overwhelming sadness and shock, at the ostensibly senseless nature of this event. Now, while staring at this feather, suddenly remembering this same friend of mine sitting here with me earlier in the week. On this very couch, on the very day that young man died. Me on the left, she on the right. Exactly where this tiny grey feather now lay. Definitely not an accident.