The Calling of the Sea

It is eerily quiet outside at the moment and has been for over an hour. A while back, we heard some noise on the main road behind our garden but didn't think anything of it. Then, as I sat here working on today's main blog post, we started to hear sirens coming in the distance. And then there was some more.

I looked out of the window and there was a bus, with the whole of it's front window blown out, and a van on the other side of the road. A woman was laying on the floor and an ambulance had come. I am guessing that things are pretty bad because a helicopter has just landed, blowing all of the trees about like a tornado. It still hasn't left, so I guess that they are transporting the woman to hospital as safely as possible. The road has been completely closed. Can you believe that one of my vile neighbours, Pig (Oddbod's husband) was out in his garden like a flash, hanging over the fence with a zoom lens, taking photographs? The repulsiveness of my neighbours never ceases to amaze me, but I wouldn't have thought that even their lack of sensitivity and consideration would have stooped this low.

I hate things like this. They stun me. How can a woman be out on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, doing her general business, and then have her life changed so quickly and dramatically? I can't explain how I feel really. I just feel an extreme rush of worry and upset for her, and for her family, who will probably only be learning about what has happened now. Isn't it strange how you can feel such strong emotions for someone you don't even know? Aside from Pig next door, who probably enjoyed the excitement of the whole thing, I could see other neighbours and bystanders looking from a safe distance and appearing concerned. Maybe another aspect of the collective one that I wrote about a few days ago.

Rather than draw a card to go with this post, I simply picked one. A man holds his head. Or does he cover his ears? This is probably one of the darkest cards in my pack, visually. The sea is deep and dangerous and it calls to the man. He tries to block it out with his hands and turns his back to it, but the tide continues to hammer away at the soft sand. He holds his head in fear and extreme worry. This is probably not far off how the family of the anonymous woman on the other side of my garden wall are probably reacting, with deep anxiety, panic and shock. If someone or something can answer prayers, then please hear mine and get this woman to safety as quickly as possible.



Illustrations from The Dark Beach Oracle by Prince Le Normand