The Crop Circles

 

I can tell you how crop circles are made. Incredible mystery to all who have not seen them made, who have not made one. The search of a life time. Search addicts all over the place. Stalking these circles. These stupendous mysteries produced by something that came form the stars. Pure magic for the scientist. A tantalising yet possible, never the less frustrating, perhaps unattainable, perhaps a never ending hunt.

There are search addicts out there taking photographs, writing notes, songs, calculating mathematically , but never knowing. Wishing it would happen to them, be they quartered by aliens in the process, they want to live it, see a glimpse, so that they know that they have lived it, so that they can, the rest of a lifetime refer, back to that moment.

Ladies working at supermarket tills, single mom's, rugby stars, barristers, super stars, artists, book worms, teenagers, excavator drivers, a whole load of teenagers, and Bridget Joans friends of mine. All waiting for their moment.

Hiding behind a wheat stalk, slimmer than a wheat stalk , invisible in the night, waiting at the crop circle to happen before it does.

Does it ever? How many nights, shooting stars, aeroplanes, plucked daisies, satellites, pass before their eyes see, an unidentifiable flying object ,of the desirable shape and quality, scorch their borne-ready field ,for that unexplainable but lovely cause?

I have made crop circles. All one must do to make a crop circle is just allow your self, to feel rhythm in your legs and arms, and not think about your breath. The opposite of meditation.  All kinds of shapes are created really. Unidentifiable. Unpredictable to architectural tools and rationality.

The ants did not understand those unforeseen crops circles , too wast, to the ants my crops circles where just sudden sunshine, where there was none before. To the cows my crop circles where probably uninteresting. To the farmers the circles we made where greatly annoying I would assume. But to us they where perfect circles.

All you have to do is throw your self in to the wheat field. It can be a green wheat field, like they are at beginning of summer. Or it can be a golden wheat field before harvest time. You throw yourself in to the wheat. The green fields are softer, they have softer leaves. But than who does not like a bit of rugged earth to claw your hands into? You throw your self in, or you get pulled in, or you walk trough a long, very long , field creating some sort of trail, leaving a scent of something irresistible, pheromones behinds you . Is it even possible to describe what happens..

He takes off your shirt, kisses your hair, your lips, your neck, your shoulders, and you are on the ground before you even know you are making crop circles. Your naked skin is on the earth, feeding it, giving it energy, and you are unstoppable, possessed, driven by nature, tons of millions of years of instinct, and scent, that incredible scent of his neck, his hair, the taste of his mouth. Your hands grasp his hair. You are riding inside his eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the universe. All the darkness and all the light is contained in his irises. In his eyes lies the whole universe. The whole universe you care about. Nothing else exists.

The sun is yellow and golden and hot.
The sun goes down.
The sun sets and can-can's its skirts and underskirts of colours.
The sun rises.
Dawns are cold and the dew is wet and you still don't care or feel the cold , or feel the stones ,or feel the dirt in your nails, all that you see and want and feel is the one before you.

Love? I'm afraid I don't know any other world for it. Total love. In love-ness and beyond it, to the other side of space, with a Ferrari, Lamborghini space ship thank you. No this can't be bought dear, or reserved, or booked please, thank you very much. And there is absolutely no way you can predict how your crop circle will look at the end of the day. It may be a set of circles joined up, you have seen the pictures. But you most certainty would have ended up with one, I'm sure, if you went to the wheat field with the right person. And how was the circle made? Well leave the farmer guessing. Let them charge their crystals on good energy in these circles. And heal, and roll and pray in the circle you leave.

Its about the right time of the year now. The wheat is green and lush and soft. The stalks are tall enough to hide you.

Tall enough to hide us as we jump into the sea of green wheat and disapeer from sight. No one will see us, not from the village, not from ten feet away. Maybe the birds will, and the UFOs of course should they fly overhead.