Willow trees, tipped with young leaves and blossoms of chartreuse and gold, line the creek. Sunlight pours among them, reflecting ripples upon the water. Little violets, purple and white, grow in thickets on the banks, along with wild raspberries and American mandrake. An apple tree, gnarled, stands by the cornfield; it was struck by lightning three years ago during a thunderstorm that spawned both a tornado and a double rainbow. And last night as I drifted off, I glanced out the window. I noticed through the willows, a strange light in the northern sky. Blue-white-lavender, spiralling upwards. Like a diamond, or a jellyfish, twisting upwards. Was it a UFO? A Faerie? A portal? A rocket test?
I don't know but I know this land has been touched by the Elves, I feel it. Eric has BEEN there, actually, once, slipped away to Ljosalfheim, or Agartha, a place lit by green and blue and purple light from within, dark yet luminous, inhabited by tall and fair and graceful beings, similar to humans yet different. They pierced his left ear, welcomed him as one of their kind; you can still feel a spot in his left earlobe where there was once a piercing (which he's never had in physical mundane reality), as if it closed up. He was about 17 when that happened.
I had a horridly traumatic upbringing, though it seemed to rip the veil off my third eye, pry it open. Most of it due to my mother and aunt. It's very...unsettling?...to realise that my soulmate, with whom I live...is more than happy to love me and take care of me, often in the ways I desperately needed my own family to do so when I was very young. I mean, it goes against virtually all modern secular cold hearted wisdom AND all traditional organised religious claptrap.
So we bring our practical philosophy to this lonely little world. We just spent our third anniversary working in the garden and planting different flowers and herbs, studying biodynamic agriculture, and baking lembas. He is a furniture designer; I am his mother's caregiver and a homemaker. Our love is dedicated to sharing that which we have found in each other--the last Homely House, now west of the sea--because so many do not have such love. I know, for once I hadn't such love, either. There are many ills such love can heal.
Now that my heart can safely rest I can turn to more analytical and practical applications of our work.