A funny thing happened on the way here, today …

Well, not so much a 'funny' but an interesting.

I am on vacation. For my vacation, I am riding my motorcycle to a long list of places. On day 4 of this wonderful vacation, I was in the Lake Cumberland area of Kentucky.

I spent some time seeing the various sites and 'reconnecting' with an area that has a heavy ancestral relationship to me. It is an odd thing to describe. The last time I was in this part of the country was in the summer of 1986. Anyway, back to my story.

I left the bike at one of those scenic pull offs and went for a brief walk along a path. This path took me to the top of a knoll that had been cleared of trees, some time ago. The clearing on this knoll was maybe 50 yards across, roughly egg shaped with the wider part of the egg to the south east.

As I stood there, slowly turning in a circle, I felt as though my boots were getting tighter as my toes seems to feel as though they were growing. My legs and arms grew stiff and felt to be cracking and splitting along their lengths. My ankles were wide apart but the space between seems to be filling in, as well.

While this was happening, the sky was shifting and changing. The sun was but a streak across the sky, occasionally blinking on what I knew to represent cloudy days. I can describe it no further than to say that I was suddenly growing into a mighty oak tree on that spot. I could see the space around there change as the road grew backwards until there was no road. Just land and hills and the clearing I was standing in was still there, with just this lone oak tree standing alone.

And the event was over in the span of just a few breaths, interrupted by the screams of someone's annoying children. I don't know what it was, but it was wild and weird and excitingly scary, all at the same time. I must think on the meaning of this. If all goes well, tomorrow I get to meet with a local Cherokee shaman. Perhaps I will share the 'vision', if this is what it was with him.

Good night from Robbinsville, NC.

P.Blacksmith