It has been about two months since I last saw anything from the hillside spirit I zoom past to and from work. I had mentioned to others that it felt like a door was gradually closing starting last fall when the harvesting of the fields around the hill was at its peak.
The spirit has “looked” my way a few times since, but no real conversations have taken place. And now the hillside is silent and unresponsive. The door has closed and all is as if nothing had ever happened.
And that’s okay.
The only analogy I have is astrological. That for a period of at least 18 months, my “planet” and the hillside spirit’s “planet” were in conjunction. Our planets have moved away from the aspect, and mine moves much faster than its. Like a darting sparrow, I have sped away from patient dragon creature.
It has its path to follow.
I have mine.
There is some sorrow in knowing that the connection has ended. There is contentment in the conversations I remember and the lessons it has inadvertently taught me. I see more in the hillsides than I have before, and have some solace when certain pains grip me. I know a little more about what I am, and I know a little more about what I am not.
May the fields it watches over be full and ripe, the creek at its feet be clear and clean, and its covenants upheld in the spirit they were made.