Twenty first webisode * Clover, guardian of the bridge

  At times I viscerally feel the swirling vortex of cataclysmic change outside of this bubble. I remember the cartoons of the supernados, that were a mile wide with everything including ships, malls and entire intact sky scrapers whirling around making a shake out of man’s stuff he created using Earths natural resources and now science trying to restrain the natural forces unleashed from his waste. It gets dark, almost black some days, with a sound like muffled wind shear and occasional subtle vibrations felt on exposed skin. The good news is that all the rain seeps down filling aquifers beneath our Node. Nodes are popping up all over the planet, thanks to LUNA and her, of course, ability to direct the equivalent force from the redirected energy of the sun, to counter any damaging effects.

  Everything is in flux, that, the concentrated dedicated force from the Consortium on our exponential threat, not willing to let go of something that we squandered. If we can do this, then it feels as though we’ve survived the petulant, immature, irresponsible Human 1.0. And the old Jenna just human, disappearing, poof, as that third strand continues to grow and upgrade, from what now feels like a dumbed down version. I had no inkling of how much of a control person I was, how I had subverted my early good instincts in directing my life’s script by filtering out stuff, not hearing or ignoring warning signals (editing), to accomplish what now seems misguided. Overlooking red flags never works!

  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

  I spent three separate days visiting an incredible structure, and young girl and just got back from todays. The first time I got back, I was so excited that I found Fubar and told her everything. She didn’t show any emotion other then a yawn and a quick scratch but I’m sure she picked up my enthusiasm anyway.

  I recorded the experience from the time I found it based on Freddies directions. I almost walked past it before my smell buds detected a few strange scents that led me to a hundred square foot space with four pylons made from a substance that looked like wood, separated by twenty feet forming a square. Looking up, the tops are above the top canopy of trees. Two had doors, entre and exit. Opening the door, tiny dot lights are coming on from the top to the bottom of a round wall, exposing a circular staircase. I can see the tiny door on top outlined in blue dots.

  There’s native graphics of man’s ignorance of his relationship with nature, from the beginning of the industrial revolution to the time of the brief one day deadly nuclear war with pictures of intensifying storms, floods, droughts and flooding coastal cities and river towns. So, the history of a species systematically living contrary to the laws of nature. A long climb since I lingered on some of it.

  Another surprise. Pushing the door open, the sudden light flooding a platform with small tree stumps for chairs and lots of beautiful ceramic pottery filled with exotic flowers, fragrant herbs and small dwarf fruit trees. Leaning over a rail, looking down was a small girl with a large straw hat, sleeveless tee and shorts, bare feet of course. Without turning she motioned me over and pointed to one of the stumps.

  I could feel her quiet energy and wish to communicate.

  'I heard, you know you can do it, don’t you?'

  'Yes, I returned, it still fresh, unused.'

  Such a radiant child, a small wonder of this dawning age.

  ‘You’re..’

  She nodded. ‘Sit’.

  ‘Here’, she stretched out her hands taking mine, a gulf between our two stumps.

  ‘My human name is Beryl, my guardian' name is clover. Guardians of the Bridge choose their own names. Hi, Jenna, I just flashed through your memory a bit and understand. I want to show you something. Okay?’

  'Shut your eyes, become an empty vessel, something I know you understand, and this time, the child will tell the adult a story beyond your veil of time. Before I start, you should know that on this platform will rise a four story tower that will offer rooms and a common area for eating and enjoying the company of others who venture forth on the quest for answers on restoration that only the bridge can tell. This Node is now a hundred miles across and growing. There will be one of these rest stops for every five miles of bridge. The Gate Keepers will keep track of how many are using the bridge, take reservations and offer a small introduction on bridge etiquette including things to watch for. Guides also can be used but most prefer not.

  yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

  I took a deep breath and went into my usual meditative pose and closed my eyes. Clovers tiny hands squeezed mine foe a few minutes then relaxed. For a time things were silent except for the little movement of leaves below then an undercurrent of voices, more like a musical wave that rose and fell in soft splashes of odd colors. A slowly clarifying image of her, or me in an elaborately carved stone bed chamber with few things in it other than a bureau and mirror, a small wooden table and vines growing helter-skelter around the enormous round windows and round door leading out to a balcony.

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  She stretched, enwrapped herself in a light plain blue robe and walked from the bedroom to the outer stone balcony and raised her arms to a new dawn. Below her a crescent valley stretched outward to a low smudge of green mountains she knew intimately from walking them with her father as a little girl. Once when she was a little girl, she had counted and named the rivers and streams and rivulets and ponds and the strange flowers that began to color the meadows below. She had placed delicious fantastical characters doing unimaginable things down there, living and hiding in secret chambers beneath the giant roots of imaginary trees that split the clouds and in their mighty limbs of her pretend named tree friends. Often, as they traveled on their paths through the immensity of the landscape, her father would mention little things that prepared her to be queen one day. This felt like my memory, so long forgotten.

  'You'll meet all kinds of people whose lives are as different the colors of a rainbow. They will tell you fantastical tales of the things that you know about in your books. If you are so lucky my little princess, it will come here for the great mountains of the north will not hold it back for long. It is fortuitous for you that you will witness firsthand the tide of life moving across the land that sweetens the air with a redolence that conjured the saved master pieces of lore that our world has as reminder of how it was--.'

  She never wanted to hear any of it, being so self-absorbed in the present. Youth, she sighed, how fleeting.

  The bell chiming followed by the usual three knocks on the door disturbed her reverie. Here we go, she whispered to her little girl, what would today bring. She kept a written log of all visitors, guests and dignitaries along with her uninhibited opinions and thoughts. A small adjoining room held all the gifts they brought in hopes of softening her up for any manner of favor. She of course had her favorites, mostly those who were articulate and painted word pictures of distant lands. The world seemed to be getting larger every year with hearsay and anecdotal stories that kept stretching the maps and anyone in power or not with a juicy story could gain access for any number of reasons, recently for her hand in matrimony.

  Turning around to meet her first, she noticed a murmuration of Jacks alighting on a turret to her left, all glistening to the new sun. Were there nests up there? She couldn't remember. And they were silent. Did that mean anything?

  'Miss, may I introduce a wayward wanderer who is said to have traveled far and has the most amazing accounts of things quite foreign to us, my lady. We have determined as usual of his benign nature and therefore not a threat but as is always the case will post a guard nearby.'

  'No need, I'll enjoy the company of this young wayfarer without disturbance, thank you.'

  She could read him to a point. He had left behind a wealthy family and a beautiful woman who loved him all for knowledge. Adventure with many became a hollow quest for the next shiny thing but she could sense a strong thirst to understand with this one. Still young and green around the edges, highly inquisitive and he had just walked the bridge! Something she had wanted to do all her awaking life.

  'You've just walked the bridge.'

  'Yes, my lady.'

  'Well, let's sit. There, and I here. Would you like food or drink?"

  'No, I'm fine my lady.'

  'And how long did it take?'

  'Yes, my childhood dream. It is a long story to match the thousand-mile bridge my lady.'

  'First, relax, then take a deep breath and then tell your story. You will have as long as it takes. I'm eager to share in your experience for it has been told as I'm sure you've heard, that to walk the bridge will add ten years of wisdom and extend longevity by as much.'

  'Yes, its true that and more. My parents met on the bridge and walked it together. All stories told before sleep were always based on their experiences, so I grew up in wonder and because we are taught to always question and seek answers for ourselves, I left home to test the validity of it.'

  'And of course for the adventure?"

  'Yes, my lady, for the thrill of discovery. You meet an elder who fixes on your signature brain pattern before you step onto it, so they’ll know if an unpleasantness occurs. The optional immersive meld disenfranchises you of any possible fear of danger you may face, creating a more nutritive space to utilize all developing senses. I chose to go without neural intervention. I wanted to experience those emotions that create responses that ensure safety! So, my lady, as you experience my stored memories, you will understand that not all is tranquil.'

  'I trust you, young warrior. If I require a lifeline I'll let it be known and now, let us take these chairs on such a beautiful morning and begin.'

  When her inner third eye opened , sensing the sway of the bridge and scents rising from the thousand years of fecundity below, she was overwhelmed. She reached for the arm of the chair and found balance. A quilt of a thousand different hues of green and a rainbow of bright and muted color, with enormous spikes of growth that rose hundreds of feet with leaves that shimmered under the two suns and a scattering of ponds and small lakes interconnected by streams and rivers through forests as far as she could see, what she understood to be the first ever project like this, of all worlds. And fields like her own but curving this way and that with shimmering ponds, suffused in gold beneath a thin mist created by giant geysers that glittered like cosmic dust. This was a cosmic heritage site healthy and evolving. He*she was lying prone on the walking slats listening to the first entry.

  Welcome to all seekers of knowledge and restless Imaginaries. For all who haven't been informed of this millennial project, we suspect off worlders mostly, it is a culmination of the deep passions and love of a few survivors of the great disruption who are revered now and put on pedestals for their dogged determination and perseverance. The story of the colossal effort to right the effects of the Great Disruption on life that almost led to our annihilation is greater than any myth of other worlds cloaked in the fuzziness of comprehension.

  Zzzzzzzzzzz

  I am tired and will continue this next. The dream like beauty of this contrasted to the reality of home, did me in. I’m hoping to relive it during Rem, tonight. Clover is a true wonder!