Here Be Dragons
Image by Carl Franz
Image by Carl Franz
Above the window an oval portion of my living room wall and part of the ceiling dissolved away to reveal the sky.
My extra little bit of psychic double glazing provided an elevated view which easily cleared the roof tops and trees.
In sharp contrast to the grey moody March sky frowning down through my conventional window, this new portion was bright and clear. It was a window to an otherworldly sky.
I peered warily into the newly revealed patch of cerulean blue.
So far so good.
But then there it was. A snaky shape with jagged wings fanning out from either side. Just a silhouette in the distance.
Yet that long-tailed body writhing between two huge leathery sails was unmistakable.
Only a dragon can be so ungainly. Only a dragon can be so beautiful at the same time.
Only a dragon can play the storm’s power with such effortless, unbridled joy.
I watched it for a little while, entranced by the magical display of supernatural grace. Then I reluctantly returned with mixed feelings to the familiar surroundings of my living room.
It is always a privilege to see the mysterious, enchanting world of the higher vibration.
However, observing this captivating creature rolling up the wind for a toy under its powerful wings was not lost on me.
Especially prior to a shopping trip when my only mode of transport is a creaky old bicycle and two equally creaky old legs.
I turned to my laptop screen. It stared at me with that annoying
'could have told you so' look.
I sighed and clicked to the weather channel.
'High winds from the south forecast for tomorrow’, it confirmed.
Why did I even bother double checking?
I knew very well dragons love the wind.
The next morning I set off early.
That way I would miss the worst of the storm.
Later, with any luck the wind would be on my back. A foe turned to friend, assisting me on the five mile return journey.
I made it to the supermarket with ease. There I discovered convenient metal hoops near the entrance. The chrome worms looped in and out of the ground, frozen in mid-action.
I tethered my trusty iron pony there among the others.
Cycling was a growing trend it seemed. As well as bicycle stands there was also another welcome addition to the supermarket.
The brand new café.
Originally it was a windmill. The sails were no longer attached but the old cone-shaped structure had been left in place as a sturdy historical monument.
I wondered if perhaps dragons had swirled around its domed roof in the olden days. I imagined them beckoning the welcome wind to turn the sails.
The café had been installed inside the rounded walls and then extended outward over what must have been an area for storage and loading.
I wondered what quietly sleeping history had been bulldozed into oblivion to make way for the new building.
Well that was progress.
Personally I had no reason to complain and settled down at a table by one of the large windows.
Hugging my coffee cup between the palms of my hands I relaxed to enjoy the view. My third eye gazed out towards the old Methodist church nearby.
The roof sported a long flag of chakra colours. The wavy wind-stroked curls ran a never-ending wobbly race along the apex.
There seemed to be a disproportionately larger band of yellow mixed into the other tones.
Rainbow colours are always welcome but these were a little faded. I sensed weariness.
Perhaps the congregation was in need of some fresh young energy?
I hoped they would find it.
The paved area directly under my window then caught my attention. Something was stirring just beneath it.
The small decorative flagstones began to shiver and quake.
This was very curious.
Suddenly the ridged back of some great snaking beast sliced them apart.
A band of sawtooth-shaped bones the colour of blood and clay arced up and then dived back underground once more.
A few feet further on it resurfaced, effortlessly ripping through the newly laid concrete slabs.
It could have only been one thing. A dragon. I was astonished. So there were earth dragons too?
I wondered if he had been disturbed by the new development. I thought about all the pilings driven deep into his boggy lowland soil. They would have speared right through his earthy ancient home.
Nobody at the local council would have bothered to ask his permission before they demolished his subterranean shangri la.
I resolved to make a discreet offering. With only half a biscuit left balanced on the edge of my saucer, I wondered what could possibly appease a disgruntled earth dragon?
Even if I had anything remotely dragon-delicious available how would I ever manage to deliver it while sitting in the café?
The dragon suddenly reappeared. He thrust his head and long neck up through the ground once more. He was very close to the window this time. For a moment he eyed me with surprisingly soft dark eyes.
He wasn't at all the fierce beast I had expected.
A young dragon? I wondered. But this was no mortal animal.
I grappled momentarily with the concept of an elemental being’s growth.
Such a creature could easily be older than the windmill itself, perhaps much older.
Despite this, all my senses stubbornly portrayed him as a young and playful little dragon.
My heart responded in kind and opened up to him with affectionate energy.
His head wavered in the air before me, as if savouring the warmth of my emotion. Then he dived gracefully down through the flagstones. The solid concrete offered no resistance at all but simply rippled like water.
I followed him down, helplessly enchanted.
He slipped effortlessly through the coarse upper layers of rubble and then on deeper still, until he reached the soft rich soil beneath.
Here an old timber beam floated in the thick fluid earth; suspended in time.
He passed under it, deliberately running the length of his saw tooth back along the black peat-soaked beam.
He was a playful dragon!
Completely absorbed now, I followed his swirling, snaky form down in a diving spiral towards a large egg-shaped pocket of soil.
This was his private sanctuary far below the unsuspecting customers enjoying coffee and cake in the café above.
There the little dragon curled himself around and around, making himself comfortable in his own trusted terrain.
He had invited me into his home. It must have been my simple offering of affectionate energy that had won him over.
Filled with awe and gratitude I left him there in peace, and returned to the hustle and bustle of The Windmill Café.