By Raylene Abbott
I am on the TGV, passing through the land of France. I stare up into the clouds and see the interplay of cloud spirits in the sky. A shape forms into an old crone, leaning over on her stick with a large sack on her back. A dragon cloud that is close by blows life force into the open sack. The sylph spirits are playing games in the sky.
It cause me to reflect how interconnected all of nature truly is. The wind blows and the leaves fall from the tree. The leaves decay and feed the roots of the tree with rich compost. A flock of geese flies in the sky. The lead bird turns to the right and the flock follows in perfect unison.
A flower forms a seed pod that burst forth into an orgasmic explosion. The parent plant withers and dies but the young sprouts grow up through the soil, creating the next generation. The interconnection of the web of nature is undeniable. It is only in the creation of man that we see this schism from the natural scheme of life.
I have lived in many places in my life. I have traveled America, Canada, Japan, Java and Bali and now abroad. But out of all the beautiful places I have experienced, I have had attachments to only two: Mt. Shasta, California, where my ancestral family has lived, and now France. This land of the ancient Gaul’s has touched my soul deeply and I feel connected to the land that is under my feet.
I feel France is a part of my heart, it’s richness of the soil, it’s natural beauty… And from its dark soil I taste the flavors of its fruits: the wine and warm breads, fresh from the boulangerie oven. I have been given a gift in this part of my life to touch many sacred places in this country. I travel through the lands, its mysteries and forgotten memories that now seem to become alive again in the land. Some of those memories are of violence, where religions or social structures went against the grain of Nature’s weaving.
But there are also many circumstances in this country that still have its roots in the soil. The weekly vegetable markets that sell Mother Nature’s wares, purple egg plants, bulging red or green peppers, brown-colored eggs, tomatoes of all shapes and sizes and goat cheese, covered in fresh herbs. This is the land where food still tastes like food.
I have had amazing experiences walking the sacred ancient ley lines and feel their power under my feet. I’ve seen the faces of the spirits of dragons within the mountain’s ridges in many of the villages of Southern France. I have watched dragon spirit rise and take its form in cloud offerings in the sky, then disappearing in the blink of an eye. The fairy tales are true. I have witnessed their forms in the bark of trees, hiding their faces in the rocks. I have heard spirits laughing in mountain streams high in the Alps.
I have seen many wonderful scenes and gained many precious experiences in the days and months I have been in this country.
I bow my head and I am grateful for these experiences.