Fog in the pass changes the sounds, softens the cries of gulls. Alters sizes, cormorants grow larger. One huge cormorant spreads his wings wide as if to sail his log through the pass. In the quiet, among the trees, drops of condensation fall loudly to the ground below, clicks like birdsong. Crouched on your haunches, you feel the mist trail her scarves across your face around your neck, and between your legs, releasing your power. Energy pulses up from the Earth, through your feet and legs. You are empowered to split open Her dream stones. You are empowered to let lose trapped spirit-faces, drawn of lines, crystals, veins, to reveal their secrets. You are empowered to release, from minerals’ grasp, the flowers they cloak and the trees they encapsulate. You are empowered to return to Her some of Her own.
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The Zetta Angus Papers 