After the 3:15 AM phone call, I got to thinking, maybe the spirals should be more concentric, like a slinky. Maybe the nest of curling filaments is a nest of twisted slinkies.

I took part in a class once, three women with bohs (staffs) walking around the three bases and home plate of a small baseball field. As we walked, speeding up, slowing down, we lifted our bohs up to zenith and back to waist level. I saw the tips of the staffs trace concentric spirals in the air.

I got the idea for drawing the spirals from walking around and around the yard here a year later. As I made circles, I was also moving with the rotation of the earth on its axis, it's revolution around the sun, the sun hurtling through space. So, my walking was not just a loop.

The point, of course, is the intersections among the filaments, what we call synchronicities.

This morning, to leave behind mosquitoes who were flocking to my calves, I left the yard to practice near the garage. There was the yellow feather, on the concrete. Have I ever found a yellow feather in all my life?

Is it just crazy me so moved by such conversations? I photographed it with a few other gifts from the dojo.