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Dusk is about to set in and there is a very important meeting about to take place. During the heat of the day many of the attending individuals settle into their daily appearance of simple rock formations that slowly bake in the noon day sun, but as dusk arrives they begin their nightly morph into the creatures they truly are.
Ask any traveler that has spent time in the back of beyond about hearing and maybe even seeing, the ghostly rustlings of things moving slowly, heavily, in the near dark just out of eyesight. The sound of sand being compressed until the grains are one point from becoming powder. Shadows that stretch the wrong way for the setting sun and slow but furtive movement caught out of the corner of their eye, producing the feeling that some kind of transformation is happening that can be felt rather than seen. It’s the imagination made tangible.
There are many creatures that live an entirely different existence than ours, who have thoughts and plans and purposes that do not include us. In fact, they are most likely not even aware of our presence, let alone our soft little bodies. Millennia to them must be the slow ticking of the cosmic clock and they would not understand the brief blinking in and out of existence of our tiny little lives.
But this evening is the beginning of a portentous event, a meeting of many important creatures to settle age old disputes and begin a discussion that will last for centuries and perhaps decide problems that have been vexing them for even longer. Their true shapes are just becoming visible. You can see who many of the principal characters are and try to ascertain who will be a leader, who will be an advocate and who will simply add their voice when it is needed.
If you were to stay out here all night and listen to the sounds of thoughts being spoken at a rate so slowly that it was the deep bass of the elements grinding together, the sound of wind keening around the edges of the rock, the soft whisper of sand being slowly pushed aside by stone creatures who live forever, or at least what seems like forever to us, would you be able to understand at any level of your consciousness what was transpiring. Perhaps, perhaps not, but I believe you would know something momentous was happening. I think you would have dreams that would be fantastical, but you wouldn’t be able to share them with anyone because I don’t think you could live long enough for the thoughts, ideas and concepts to compress into visions you could describe. And that’s alright with me. I’m OK with not knowing everything. Just sharing the experience is enough.
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