Previously:

“Well, we should head back to the car. The sun is going to set soon. I want to be able to find our way back as easily as we had, getting here.” 

“It’s so nice you’re driving, Cordelia. I’m not sure how I’d do finding our way back. Maybe I can drive when we strike out for Glastonbury.”  Another chill wriggled up my back.

************

We woke well-rested. I think the activities from the previous day had tuckered us out so much it overtook the high level of adrenaline we put to bed for the night. 

As we were sitting with cups of coffee, we put our sweet rolls on paper towels. We’d had to flip a coin to see who was going to wash the creepy plate we’d used to put our biscuits on the other day. I wasn’t sure if I could touch the shiny images of the church or cathedral and whatever the other building was, if I lost the toss.

Cordelia stepped away for a few minutes. She returned, slipping her wallet from her maroon leather pocketbook. Snapping open her lovely purple patterned wallet, she hunted in the coin compartment to find an American quarter. I wished she’d taken longer. The die was cast, we soon know who would take the dive and do that dish.

“Heads or tails?”

I was slowly drifting away. “Madeline, you call it. Heads or tails?”

Oh, great, I was the determiner of my own fate. “Heads.”

As she rested the foreboding coin upon her bent forefinger and thumbnail I was so preoccupied with how I would summon strength enough to conquer my new phobia I missed the head, flipping over the tail, over the head, and landing in her dancing palm.

I clearly went somewhere else. She had to tap me on the shoulder to get my attention.

“Well, guess which it came up for.”

A salty taste gathered in my mouth as my throat closed just a little tighter. Try as I could, I did not discern any clues from her voice tone. She was intentionally flat in her presentation. “I don’t know, I give up.” We were in an uncomfortable guessing game. I was ready. My role model was Sue from Life Below Zero, who gritted her teeth and managed to do unpleasant and difficult tasks.

Once again, Cordelia surprised me, heading for the kitchen sink.  “Well, I’d better put a shield of protection around myself and get that plate washed." More chills. The whole time she was touching that plate she made horse-like whinnyings. 

When she came back into the sitting-room she sang in a high-pitched tone. “Please brush my aura, please.” I used to get that request from staff members when working in the psych hospital. Another term, is to comb the aura. 

Beginning at her head, I ‘raked’ the energy all the way to her feet, shook any negative energy off my fingers, then began at another side at the top, repeating the motion until all sides were combed or brushed. She was giddy. “Oh, that feels delicious. Thank you, thank you.”

That was the end of that. Never was a word spoken about that dish, its images, or the effects it had on us. Nor did we need to use any of those plates. We managed fine, without them. We did not know, as yet, why we were affected by certain words, thoughts, or images, but we knew it wasn’t good and that the day of reckoning was nearing.

*******

Soon I got to the gathering of new friends, who were like me, with someone learning how to use their harps for, not just entertaining, but for healing. Many were local, meaning from England. As with most of us, they admitted they had not visited the areas sought after by tourists.

That is a strange fact. I would never have gone up on a gondola and certainly not a chair lift in our skiing locations, unless we had to think of a fun place to bring our friends to show them our local attractions. 

I guess that was true with this group, who had never been to Stonehege, the Standing Stones or seen Silbury Hill. A few had seen crop circles but more had witnessed strange lights in the sky. 

In the middle of the whole discussion, Caren said, “I saw them making your crop circle, late last evening.” Everyone stared at her, eyes begging for more details. “I saw their lights in the sky just north of here.”

One fellow, with whom I was unfamiliar, challenged, not so playfully. “So were you sitting out here with a compass? How did you know it was north of here?”

I loved her answer. “The big dipper was out, and I spotted it with the North star.” She was matter of fact, not one hint of smugness. That was the end of his questions.

Karin mentioned that she’d read there is a great deal of UFO activity around Stonehenge and Avebury where the Standing Stones are. “These are often coordinated with crop circle appearances.”

It was time for the ‘devil’s advocate’ to rear his ugly head. “So, how do we know some humans didn’t make your nine circles in that grain field? You have no real proof and there were some guys who proved they made them.”

A believer chimed in. “ Oh, like they are hopping on a private jet with their little flat boards and rope and making them all over the world. Did you know they are sighted all over the world? And they are becoming more complicated, something scientists have to use a computer for to figure out the equations they indicate.”

“Well, maybe there’s a club of them.” When he wouldn’t let up, I knew it was time to change the topic, to drip a drop of nitroglycerin into the mix.