Acid Rain by R.D Rhodes (literature books to read .txt) 📗

I stepped across the stream and approached it from the front, when I looked down at the ground- and went cold all over- at the long white feather sticking up on the grass.

Chapter 56

O h my God, I said aloud. A jolt of electric went through me. Thank you spirit woman! Linda! Thank you spirit! Thank you! I was stunned. It was proof of my contact with whatever that world was. How else could you have gotten here? I thought, as I observed it in my hand. There are birds here, lots of them, but mostly black ones, and small- crows, chaffinches, blackbirds, robins, but this feather is like a seagull’s! It’s bigger than my hand! There are no seagulls in Affric! 

I tucked the feather behind my ear, but then I thought no, I don’t want it to fall out and lose it. So I put it inside, beside my pillow instead. I kissed it. I thanked it. I went down to the oak and thanked that too. I bowed down to the whole forest and felt full of intense elated energy.

I came back and sat down on one of the stones at the fireplace. I didn’t know how to contain myself. My legs wouldn’t stop bouncing and I felt supercharged. I boiled some green tea and drunk it slowly and with concentration, but still I didn’t feel grounded. Imagine feeling like this all the time, I thought. It must get tiring.

But it wasn’t making me tired. After a while I closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing. Then I tried to focus only on my breathing. But it was like my mind had exploded, and I kept seeing images of strange patterns, and connections, and threads of thoughts all racing in my brain and in front of my eyes.

I gave up. I was shaking as I built a fire. I got it done quickly and had it going in five minutes. I am an expert now, I thought. I watched the orange-yellow flames in the decreasing light, but though it helped calm me a little, it wasn’t helping enough.

There was a buzzing sound in my ears. I went back into the tent and took everything out, dusted the bare floor with my hand, then carefully placed everything back. I threw away the nettles and mushrooms and ate three big handfuls of the sugary berries. I was still wired. I came back to the fire and poured almost all the porridge we had left into the pot.

I ate it with lots of rosehip syrup, and drank three bottles of water to wash it down. The glen fell black and the stars and a three-quarter moon came out. Still I was trembling and my legs were bouncing, the electric current still surging through me. I didn’t know how to channel or deal with all of that energy, I tried singing out loud, and praying, and then writing everything down, but I just couldn’t switch off. I just want a leveler, I thought. Listening to Time out of Mind helped a bit, but it wasn’t until the daylight was returning that I felt tired enough to get to sleep.

But I got what I had desired the next morning. I felt flat, drained, almost like I was hungover. I lay in my bag for a while in the dim half-light. When I eventually looked out at the grey sky, I guessed it was about one pm.

Has my mood changed with the weather, or the weather with my mood? My brain felt turgid and rotting, a complete contrast from the day before. It is a relief though, and like that lady said, I need to feel like this in order to know what happiness feels like. I can’t have one and not have the other.

I ate some rice, then lit another fire, and had a lazy day sitting by it and watching nature. A million little wet droplets hung in the air, and I kept my hood up while I sipped a tea.

I’d really like some hot chocolate, I thought. Oh man, or hot milk! And a decent meal that’s not rice or porridge.

I wonder when Harry will be back? It should have been yesterday. Hopefully he will bring some nice food.

I went back into the tent and slept. Slept right through the night and into the next day. I didn’t feel much cheerier when I woke.

I ate, and went to the toilet, and had a little walk. And washed, and came back, and sat at the tent and wrote. Then, although I didn’t have much desire to, I went down to the oak tree.

Good morning. It said.

Hello.

It’s normal, you know.

What is?

The dive. You couldn’t possibly keep at that level all the time.

I know, I said in my head. I’m just grateful that I felt it. It will come back around, I’m sure.

Yes. Yes. Patience. You’re learning.

I looked away to the left, over the loch. Sometime Harry was bound to be rounding it.

He will be back, the tree said in my head.

I know. I’m enjoying it fine here, anyway. I like being alone. Part of me doesn’t even want him to come back. I’m just drained today.

Well, rest. Come back when you’re ready.

I lay down on the spot, my left cheek in the soft grass. The last of the oak’s yellow leaves blowing down around me. I watched a chaffinch hop along a branch and call out to some other birds.

Chapter 57

I lay there about an hour, then went back up to sit by the fire. Then went inside and had a little doze.

About four pm I stoked the fire to restart it, added plenty of fuel, and left the flames burning twenty yards behind me as I sat back down beside the