by Tom Shafer
April 29, 2020
So, this should have been written last week, but projects/life got in the way – even during this pandemic. Last Tuesday evening (really, early Wednesday morning), I slipped into my hot tub to soak my aching, non-surgically repaired left hip (the repaired one feels great!) on a night when thunderstorms were approaching from the northwest. It was still relatively clear over the homestead, though I could hear the low, guttural rumblings of thunder and occasionally glimpse a brief flash of light across the sky. This was also supposedly the peak of the Lyrid meteor shower and on the previous evening I had actually seen several (okay, four) “shooting stars” rushing away from Vega, the top anchor of the Lyra constellation. Maybe tonight I would catch a little more of this show.
To the northeast, a lone coyote yipped hesitantly for a moment, then went silent. Suddenly, coming from the south, the Little Miami River coyote band broke into full-throated song and was quickly joined by the eastern Orchard Lane gang. This concert went on for perhaps a minute, then, as always, cut off as abruptly as it had commenced. I do appreciate these “shows” – which occur frequently here – and hope that you at least occasionally get to experience moments like this. It may not be coyotes for you. Perhaps for you it is a woodpecker visiting your yard, tapping away at a dead or dying tree, searching for a grub or beetle that it can hear rustling through the wood. Maybe it is a wascally wabbit that emerges at dusk, enjoying clover patches on the edges of your property. I think these experiences have a grounding effect on us, help center us, especially during difficult times.
Back in my hot tub, clouds were quickly rolling in from the west when a long streak burst from the Lyra constellation, then another right after it – two dust particles from ancient Comet Thatcher which orbits the sun about once every 415 years. Many, many moons ago, a large section of the comet broke away from the main “body” and appears to us (because of its smaller orbit) every year in April. Those of you who would like to witness the return of Thatcher need only reserve a cryogenic chamber and hope that twenty-third century technology has figured out a way to attach your head to a cybernetic body. Thatcher isn’t scheduled for its next perihelion until 2276. Cryonics Institute in Michigan is waiting for your call – and your money – and your body – well, really just your head!
Billowing cumulous clouds were now overtaking the once-clear sky. The leading edges were creating interesting shapes and forms, some of them even taking on characteristics of human faces. This immediately took me back to my last home in southern Montgomery County, to another hot tub in the middle of the night. Back then and back there, I often experienced this phenomenon of seeing face-like features in these nighttime clouds; in fact, so much so that it began to bother me a little. I even googled it, embarrassingly – until I discovered that it is indeed a thing. Many people report similar occurrences, some of them conjecturing that these are not merely random cloud forms, but instead are messages, perhaps of a religious nature, for us to interpret and utilize.
Multiple faces, taken by father-in-law Richard from his Signal Hill home
One particular evening stands out to me today. Over the course of several minutes while soaking in my tub, numerous “images” formed above me, one after another. They were all moving very quickly because it was a windy night, but as each “face” formed and disappeared, I began to question their randomness. Being spiritual but not necessarily religious, I wondered whether these were indeed “messages” of some sort intended specifically for me. Just as I was jettisoning that thought into the ether, one particular cloudface materialized over me, one that actually resembled contemporary renderings of Jesus. Then, quite unexpectedly, it slowed and amazingly held in place for perhaps thirty seconds – before ultimately following the other clouds on their swift eastward journey.
I have seen similar (at night), this compliments of Tu Amigo Dios
Was this a missive for a semi-heathen like me, an epistle-like directive regarding my spirituality or belief in a God? Or, was this just a classic example of matrixing, our brain’s way of taking patterns and arranging them into something familiar – or desired. Though not a Christian and never baptized (my father was a grudging atheist, my mother a closet Presbyterian – though I didn’t know that until my late teens), I have always tried to live by the “golden rule,” to treat people as they (not I) should be treated. Because of a number of difficult-to-explain happenstances in my life, I dabbled with Buddhism in my twenties and thirties, and still today embrace many of its teachings (though not a Buddhist primer by any means, you must read Dr. Brian Weiss’s book Many Lives, Many Masters if you are questioning your own spirituality or belief in the afterlife). Now, rapidly approaching my sixties, I consider myself an atheistic, agnostic Christian Buddhist who has few answers to too many questions. If nothing else, I suppose we are all food for worms – except that I am donating my body to science, which will be cremated upon usage.
But back in my northern Greene County hot tub (I knew I could get back there), a loud pickup truck broke the quiet, and those faceclouds began to spit a little rain. A flash of lightning in the near distance and its not-so-dawdling accomplice thunder stirred me from my reverie, and I scrambled (slowly because of my hip) back to the safety of our sunroom. Within a few moments, a pleasant thunderstorm rolled upon our home, breaking the spell of cloud images and spirituality.
Ours certainly is an interesting world – and we an interesting people. What think you?
Dan Bern performing, photo compliments of Dona
