Image: Windgarth House at night.
Thursday, August 21
Windgarth 7:20 p.m.
Met our new tenants, they were seated on one of the wooden benches by the lake. One was writing, the other gazing at the day. Very friendly and sensitive, special. M. swam. The walk to the Point after dinner.
The lake very blue today; a few thin, almost transparent clouds ....
Friday, August 28
The end of August. The nights are very cool now, more like fall. Diana wrote that she managed to take photographs of angel wings on statues while she was in New Orleans, for the graphics of Visits With Angels. The book seems to be moving forward again, towards completion. Of course, on another level the book was completed in that initial vision I had some years ago, when in my vision I saw many pages composed of Brilliant Light falling towards me, from the Feet of Our Lady. I can only hope that my words are in some way worthy of that Light ... That is always my greatest personal concern, both as a writer and as an artist - and of course, also as a person. We are given so much, and the soul is so pure and transparent, filled with Light and the Divine Principles. And then we live our lives in such unnecessary poverty, lost in our emotions and thoughts, forgetting who we truly Are.
I am the soul.
In meditation class last Wednesday night we spoke about Christ’s reference to hiding our Light under a bushel. We are all meant to bring Light into the world, be vehicles for the Divine Light of God and the soul. We should all heal others as we walk down the street, as we enter a room, merely by our presence ... We were all meant to be saints.
I am the soul.
Monday, September 1
Windgarth House
We are leaving for town in a few hours, after a few days here. We will return later tonight, around twilight. Elise and Rusty are staying upstairs this week, visiting Larry. Today is Cindy’s annual Memorial get-together and Larry is mowing the lawn. Scott and the two girls have already come over to say hello. I am on the dock, M. is kayaking, now a mere speck in the distance south of me. Today is sunny yet cool, with a slight haze. There is something of the sea in the lake this morning, perhaps the combination of sun and wind and haze. Splashes of sunlight come to my feet, reflected off the waves - a pool of light on the water beneath the sun. Cindy’s presence is very strong today.
Worked on We Meet in Dreams. The overall form is fairly established, but some gaps remain.
Now a man in a small boat is fishing near the martin houses.
Tuesday, September 2
We arrived back at Windgarth last night for the end of the memorial picnic dinner; everyone was still there, including Cindy’s grandchildren. As usual, Larry had arranged everything, and made all the food that was nicely set out on tables near the house in the back yard. Further down towards the lake he had set up the usual small table with a vase of flowers and a few folding wooden chairs.
After everyone else left, M. and I, Elise, Rusty and Larry went down to the water; Larry made ahe bonfire, M. and I had marshmallows. Larry put small, lit candles on ten ordinary plastic plates, one candle per dish, and sent them out one at a time onto the lake. They headed slowly and carefully east across the lake in a quiet and serene procession, as though bringing a message of some sort to the woman we all so deeply loved. A simple and modest cortege floating on the water, gently blown by the wind, slowly making its way to an unknown destination ... This year the candles remained single file, and after about a half hour turned south. Larry and Elise and I sat on the dock to better watch the humble procession; at one point the reflection of the candlelight on the waves looked as though the candlelight was plunging down into the lake, almost like gentle and noiseless fireworks descending deep into the water. Larry and I spoke occasionally, Elise - except for a short sentence or two - remained silent the entire time ...
It was difficult to pack up and leave after so many days at beautiful Windgarth. I stood in the road and in the wind and moonlight under the stars, and tried to remember the feeling, to bring back with me into town ...
M. leaves tomorrow morning for a conference in California and will return late Sunday night. I will probably not be back to Windgarth until next week, at least not physically.