Angels’ Wings Etched In The Sky – Photo: L. Weikel
Angels’ Wings
Today was an exquisite winter day. Bright sunlight reflected off the choppy, muddy waves of the Lenape Sipu as it flowed toward the freedom of the Atlantic, while wisps of clouds that reminded me of angels’ wings inscribed the azure sky above with a fine-tipped nib.
The weird thing is, I’m not one to see angelic forms all that often. Most of you probably know me well enough to appreciate I’m more of a person who sees animals in the clouds than anything else. Angels, not so much.
I could kick myself now because I flirted with stopping in the middle of the road when I first spotted the wispy figures, but thought better of it. While the road I was on was deserted in that moment, there was nowhere for me to pull off safely. It didn’t feel like a wise move to try to get a good shot of those angels’ wings. I would’ve had to get out of the car to get a clear photo of them without telephone poles or wires marring the image.
Shared Perfection
My delight in walking along the bank of my beloved Delaware River was heightened by the fact that I was in the company of dear friends not seen in person in a very long time.
The funny thing was, as we walked and talked and caught up on each others’ lives, even more wispy hints of angelic forms appeared above our heads. Already regretting my choice not to stop and take a couple photos of the sky earlier, I did manage to snag one photo as we walked.
I didn’t want to take my phone out of my pocket – even to take photos. I just wanted us to be together without any electronic devices distracting or disturbing us. As a result, I only have the single photo, above, to share with you tonight.
Must Be Something to It
But I have to say, for all my resistance, there must have been something ‘angelic’ going on. Not only did I see them on my way to meet my friends, but also, as the photo above attests, they continued showing up in the sky above as we walked.
The final moment causing me to surrender and say, “OK, angels are definitely present and watching over us today,” came when we entered a rock and gem shop at the conclusion of our visit. One of my friends took me to see a type of stone that was persistently calling her name. And there they were again – angels’ wings. The crystalline structure was precisely reminiscent of angels’ wings; and yet I hesitated to state the obvious. (Because, again, angels aren’t usually my ‘thing.’)
But there it was, even written in the description of the stone itself. Seraphinite. Seraphim.
Exquisite.
It seems only right to accept that our visit was smiled upon and watched over by the angelic realm. I call upon that realm every single time I open Sacred Space. Why wouldn’t they generously bless a reunion of friends?
(T+75)