Yesterday I walked into a grocery, in a moldy mood, sort of head down and one step at a time.  A man held a baby, a little tiny baby.   I walked past.  I glanced over at baby, fully expecting to see, well, a small and undeveloped creature.  What I got was a double barrel shotgun of baby-blues.  This kid was cooking with joy, a fresh window on Eternity, and the power of this................force..............so vivid and clear and loving- blew my fucking head clean off.  Dazed me.  Thrilled me to my soul,  threw a major spring into me step.  Changed my diaper.  Gave me a cosmic coochie-coo.

Back in 1914, a British minister G. Vale Owens received messages, purportedly from his mother, deceased.  Automatic writing as it were- and whether or not this contact was genuine or from Holmes's own sub-conscious, many luminaries of the time vetted Owen, and rings true to me.

Here's a taste:

But we testify to you, friend, and those who will think reverently of things they cannot understand, that if wonder gives us pause time and again as we proceed, yet never do we lose that sense of a Presence whose breathing is of Love, and whose leading is as gentle as a mother's leading of her little child.  So we, as you do, take His hand and do not fear;  and the music of the Spheres is around us as we go on from glory to the glory beyond.  Come this way ever, our brother in Him.  Never faint or weary of  the road, for the mists are thinning as you proceed, and the light strengthens into the further light which issues onward into the Unknown, but never feared, so we tread lightly and humbly, as little children do, amid the glories of the planets and the heavens of suns and spheres, and of the Love of God.

Oh- and some funny stuff on the Cult of Darwin

Here's a shot taken at a local waterfall- one half of one quarter of the couples we saw gazing up creek between a whole lot of nature's calling.   Must be the negative ions.