The Osprey's Return - Part 2

Failte, Reader. Welcome back if you're a regular.

What a week it's been. As I mentioned at the end of last week's post (before the story), I had committed to finishing my book last week. "Roar, shout, scream..." I did it. Well, I finished penning the story. Now, I'm 1/3 the way through editing the last 50,000 words. Then I've a few titles and a bit of clarity to add, while learning how to send books into publishers, or agents, or whatever the craic is that I need to do there. Finalmente, finally, off it shall be submitted, taking its own Camino journey, and hopefully, stepping gently into the hearts and minds of the publisher of my dreams. (Girl's gotta dream, right?). I even got a wee inspiration for a synopsis last night. Not sure it's long enough, but it feels good on my lips. 

For the new reader, a quick explanation here is that I've just finished writing a book called "From Head to Heart: Healing on the Camino." An Irish woman reflects on the life which led her to a journey of healing from head to heart after narcissistic abuse, while walking the Camino de Santiago alone." What do you think? Bit clunky, but it's a grand start. 

Let's Get Down To Business

This week, I'm continuing the story we started last week. If you haven't read that one yet, click HERE. This is new for me. So far, I've just written a full story on a Friday. This story feels like its feckin wingspan is widening every time I think about it. Thus, I'm not putting myself under pressure to put the whole thing down now for ye, we'll take it in stages, just like the Camino, just like life, which is, after all, one big story. 

I've put a working title on it today "The Osprey's Return." This week in Ireland it was confirmed that a bird which was once native to our shores has again begun mating here. That bird is a powerful totem in many ancient wisdom practices. Serendipitously, I saw an article about its return a little while after publishing the first part of this story. The news this week helped feed a little of the magic that's presenting itself for the parts coming in the next few weeks. I've left in the last paragraph of the story from the previous post, so you get it fresh. 

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Continued from last week...

30 years later, as Olivia stood stoking her backyard fire, the shadow of a bird blocked the sun.

"That's unusual. Didn't I hear a story about that happening once ...?" she mused, and for half a second thought she caught an image of something cross her eyes. Her stomach was pulsing, and her breathing short. "Maybe I need to lie down. I haven't been sleeping well." 

Olivia drifted off quickly, thoughts of tucking into her specially prepared birthday dinner, then snuggling up with a movie and wine, swimming in her head. "It's my 40th birthday," she had said to herself. "I'm going all out! It's time I started treating myself." The summer weather was stretching into early autumn, so she'd got herself enough meat to BBQ for three. Chicken wings, a rack of ribs, steak, and prawns. Not forgetting the veg, she threw in peppers, courgette, red onion. And, of course, a nice, round, fat spud. She was going to bake it for a while before finishing it on the fire. Wine. "Sure, I'll just get two bottles, and maybe a little Bailey's. I'll just get the bottle of Bailey's. Feck it. I can make coffee with it too." 

It would be Olivia's first birthday alone after the separation. Everything had changed so quickly in the past 10 months. First, she'd discovered her partner of ten years had been cheating on her for six. Soon afterwards, her father had died. That was the only reason she'd come home. Well, that and getting an apartment in Dublin was almost impossible, and insanely expensive. Even though she and her ex had sold the house, she still wasn't willing to waste her money on extortionate rent when she had a perfectly good home to live in. "Am I really ready to be back there, though? It's so quiet and old fashioned." She felt a shiver as a breeze blew through her. "Maybe that's exactly what I need. A completely fresh start somewhere I feel safe." Her step felt lighter once she'd made the decision. 

*****

If anyone had been around to see Olivia's body writhing and twisting on the couch, they would have thought her possessed. The dream was back. It was always the same. More a nightscare than a dream. She couldn't understand what it meant, and hadn't taken the time to really go looking yet. Parts of it felt familiar. "I just can't place them." She mithered over it a lot. After the dream, she always woke up sopping, in a pool of her own sweat, confused, out of breath, and most unusually, if the dream had gone on long enough, to a tingling sensation in her fingertips.

*****

Olivia is standing on an old road, near the ruins of an ancient church, surrounded by sycamore trees. The wind is whipping violently all around her. Tree boughs begin bending, bracing themselves as best they can against the wind's thundering roar. Leaves, and browning "helicopters" (the little seed sacs that grow on the sycamore tree), whirling and twisting into miniature tornados captured by crossing gusts, are propelled upwards before losing the air current, dispersing and dropping to the ground. The earth beneath her feet seems to be vibrating. It warms her body as she walks towards the church. Someone is shouting nearby.

"The wall must ... the wall must ..." 

A strange screech whistles each time the voice says, "must," drowning out the words following it. Olivia can't see who it is, can't see much around her at all. The road she's walking is shrouded by treetops reaching out to each other from opposite sides, peering down at her head as she walks towards the voice. It seems to be coming from the graveyard. Olivia had forgotten all about this place. She wondered how after having spent so many afternoons there in her youth. 

*****

"It's the old church and graveyard!" Olivia woke with a jolt. "I can't believe I didn't recognise it. How have I forgotten all about that place? What the hell was that image that crossed my eyes at the fire earlier? The fire. Oh shit - the meat!" She belted it out to the fire, exhaling a loud, "Pheeew!" when she saw that she'd moved the grill to the lower shelf. She didn't recall having done that. "Today is a strange day," she muttered, moving the shelf back up while adding fuel to her fire. "I think a Bailey's coffee is in order. At least that will feel normal." 

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"I'm not ready. I'm simply not ready. How did I not notice the colours change? I am getting too old. I have much to do." Not far away, the old healer was all in a tizzy, darting in and out of the old, dilapidated cottage, collecting pots, pans, and other accoutrements, stoking a giant fire cracking within a large stone hearth on the west wall of the cottage. To outsiders, the cottage may have looked like it should have been knocked years ago. To those in the know, it had a very different appearance. 

"Where did I leave my bloody saucer? I need to see that bird." 

To be continued...