Subject to Change

"Here is the Answer to Everything", whispered the mist.

My ancient camera frustrates the hell out of me- not only is it useless for photographing vampires , it also refuses to pixelate my hallucinations.

At the time, it appeared as if a roc had perched on the shrouded peak of this building and the naked eye could just barely discern the shifting of it's enormous wings as it balanced and counter-balanced itself against the buffeting winds.

Of course, there probably aren't any rocs in Chicago, but there was something there - at risk of sounding like a ranting, chanting, crystal-waving post-New Age acid casualty, I've been feeling some
"weird energy" lately- a shift in the Force , if you will. It doesn't feel like a Death Star/Alderaan moment- it's a Grey Shift, and it's still in progress. Being incomplete, it's impossible to tell if it's Light or Dark Shift- or even to determine if such stark differences exist.

Me, I don't really care what you call it, but weird, inexplicable things do happen. All the time.
Mostly, I'm afraid, we fail to notice them.
I wrote about this on Sunday when I was in Chicago, but by coincidence (?) , my blogmate Susanne posted a really cool link only a few seconds after I posted my piece, and judging from a couple emails, I'm not sure mine was seen by very many readers. Normally, I wouldn't care, but it was a pretty intense experience and I was hoping to hear...I dunno. Something.

In that post, I described seeing a photograph at the Celtic Fest that stopped me in my tracks. This is a pic of the pic:

Click pic for a story I wrote about this place last March...

In my dreams my initial vantage is much higher- the cliffs are much taller and have less of a slope, and that beach is very, very small and sort of huddles against the cliffside, making it difficult to fully view from above without leaning dangerously over the cliff's edge. The dream place has less foliage, the higher , steeper cliffs having no purchase for soil, but the geography is uncannily familiar. There's a lot missing in this photo, but the resemblance to my recurring dream was so strong that I wound up staring, trying to mentally overlay my dream image onto the the photo.
Close fit. Felt weird, but in a good way, I think.
Probably just the result of a chemical imbalance caused by too many Chicago style hot dogs the previous night.

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of an experiment conducted with a strange bit of magic leaves acquired from a local alchemist, but I coulda sworn that I saw tiny dancing women, smaller than children even, merrily dancing in 3/4 time.

It's indistinct in the pic, but the sign in the front of stage has a schedule of performers, to which someone has added in black marker ,'talent subject to change'.
It didn't say "change size" , so I guess these were actual wee folk and not just humans zapped with a shrinking ray.