(31) The Winter creek, Hatley County

(31) The Winter Creek, Hatley County.

There are many roads here. Not all lead to this creek. I don’t know exactly how long it is. In some places, I think land grew over.This area offers some of the most picturesque landscapes that rugged terrain can offer. At the height of the road, I’m concerned with, the creek flows beneath the dirt road to the north where false hellebores grow tender lush green leaves in June.

To your right, if you’re walking west, the creek gently meanders its way, six feet below, among dwarf birch. It is a very seriously inspiring area for the creative mind, a masterpiece of creation for the eyes. There is no doubt these are some of the reasons why this happened here at that very spot.

It was winter in January. On that road, the dead deep of winter isn’t all dark. Some parts are always lit in pale blurs, and over two mountainous shapes to your left, if you’re walking west, the blurs are reddish. If you ask those who know, they’ll confirm that those are dinosaur nights, screaming and frightful as that may be.

On these particular nights, an unknown phenomena causes the mysterious manifestation of ghostly dinosaurs.

There are especially two and sometimes three of these ancient creatures that materialize briefly enough to be seen and heard on those nights: a giant Tyrannosaurus and a Triceratops. On some extremely rare nights, when it’s very bitter, the spirit of a brontosaurus freezes motionless in his tracks. These creatures tower many times higher than any mountain around.

As you can see, Nothing has ever changed in this part of the land in particular. It was On such a night, getting late in January, just right off the road where the creek widens before narrowing down in meanders, to the right if you’re walking west, that he was discovered dead lying face down. As lifeless as he lay, all vital signs gone, dead as he looked, he could never be reanimated or come back to life. It wasn’t an error.

It was medically certified that no danger to him could come from burying or disposing of his body, away from our sight forever now. But from sight only, as he will be remembered, as he was, in our memory. He had landed the face down over a small part of the creek’s surface that wasn’t frozen and covered with snow. There were no tracks around him. It was pristine and snowed big flakes more and more.

The air was as pure and good as it always is here at this time of year, smelling like it does from the low bottom of your lungs and against your skin in the cold, cold January of Hatley County. His death remains a mystery. Some few people received a letter two days after the recovery of his body. They were mailed a day before. I received one also. But, it seems one of a different nature than the others. If there was, another like mine, I have never heard of it.

The letters that were received by the others are simply a short intimate statement on how important that person was to him. No mention of anything else. It is generally concluded he killed himself, that it was an action of gratuitous suicide to jump face down to drown and freeze as he was discovered, with no signs of struggle whatsoever, and then these letters…Reminiscent to most of some state of mind before something as life changing as this. In my letter though, he explains that taking a walk a few weeks ago in the evening, passing by that spot as he did countless times before, he stopped and breathed in the scene.

Staring at the patch of open water, it began more and more to look like a watery hole. He stared at it for a very long time and continued on his way. Something would have happened beyond that. That night while asleep, he didn't hear the dinosaur scream that scratched the frozen land. Instead, he was in a dream. He saw himself slowly walk down to the creek. When he reached the spot, He stood towards and stared. A gentle wind blew the fine surface snow on the rim of the opening, and miniscule snowflakes glittered in the moonlight. The tall fir trees swayed calmly, each branch seemed to ondulate. The watery opening was now moving on itself in a swirl, as If stirred by an unseen hand. His eyes flinched as a bright luminosity grew more intense. The silence was thicker, the cold bitter and freezing. The trees were clearly moving as if they were made of rubber. His mind was racing. He witnessed through an unknown sight source inside his mind, many narratives unfolding. He saw moments of his life, great movements of primitive physical matter and fleeting equations and what looked like "prototypes". He doesn't know how long he stood there as a conduit to this manifestation. He wrote that most importantly, at one point it somehow started to make sense. He come across an understanding, or "he became filled" as he put it in his words,with a different knowledge. He was in full realization. He awoke in bed lying on his back. A deep sense of happy anticipation almost levitated him out of bed. He had a choice and needed to make a decision accordingly. After much deliberation with himself he chose to leave this world he felt relatively unhappy with anyway.

It would, in all appearances look like a voluntary cause of death and be considered as such. But it wasn’t. I would get to know the truth of what was behind this event. He had not chosen to be unable to have his mortal body not follow him. He could not cross over with it. The watery hole led to another dimension or world, as he specifically preferred.

Only few people are aware the spot is a metaphysical extension of themselves through their subtle body. To be able to achieve that I was told, you need to be able to choose not to perceive through any of the five senses. The ensuing vision is through the subtle body. This union of our complimentary bodies is permanent. After this stunning rediscovery of our subtle self , the body is sometimes discarded and left behind. The subtle self is free to join the elements and provide insights into reality.

That’s all he knew at first. It was an extremely rare opportunity to jump through and never return. What would it look like? More importantly, will there be people? This would have been crucial as he definitely wasn’t interested in going anywhere else to find others or change from one mortal existence to another.. There are enough people here and drama as it is already. He gave much thought to the irreversible nature of the migration and he also says he gave much thought to how he some relatives and friends might feel at the fact of his discontinued existence on earth.

Those who’d miss him would be those who appreciated something of his being alive among them that a dead body can’t replace. In the end, the most important was by large the anticipative nest of final moments. Not one of them included satiation of lower instincts. He was keen only to depart as soon as possible, intensely binding with each step to the ground, in spirit and through all his senses to sense the physical earth as well as could. He knew it was the last time in this state.

He explains that when it became more than certain he would go, he understood intuitively over the night that on the other side, where he was headed, he would see himself, but not like when looking in the mirror. He would simply know he’s himself, and somehow, he will forever visualize his thoughts, constantly discover insights, associate coefficients to their respective variable and meditate on the whole process.

It was a concrete world of thought. Though we live in a mathematical system, we tend to hardly consider numbers alive. They know us only too well. He added that

"from the whole hugeness of the universe as we imagine it, we see of it but what our eye permits us, whether as such or through equipment. In what we do see, downgrade isn’t the only reality. What you think doesn’t exist isn’t an illusion. What you think does, is".

He wrote to me not to worry or feel bad. He ended his letter to me asking that I walk on that road every once in a while, regardless of the season, and stare at that spot.