Billie's Divination Den

The Tor, I am told, is one of the highest natural peaks in Somerset: we climbed it.

Annie is meditating next to me, and there is a kid singing ‘the wheels on the bus’ in St. Michaels tower. Tonight we are sharing the space with many other people. We made the climb so we could watch the sunset up here; it was difficult, and I am reminded of this by a cold sweat bubble joining the rivers down my neck. It seems as if my head might be an infinite source of salt water.

And older Greek woman whispers to a young girl named Maya; they look for somewhere to sit while commenting on how many people are on the Tor.

Personally, I don’t mind how many people are up here, but I feel for Annie as she focuses on the energy work for her crystals. The sky bubbles red and orange ahead of us. The sun is in the West, half of its presence has been pinched behind expansive, smoky clouds. He is not shy, he is just waiting to make his entrance.

The stink of three days of sweat from my time at the rainbow commune makes its way to my nose, but is drowned out by a nearby joint; a scent that has become closer to me than my own blood in recent days.

Two dogs find their way into an argument behind us. I attempt to rehydrate with kiwi and strawberry water. The tang it leaves in my mouth beats the stale tobacco off my tongue.

Up here we toe the line between organic and inorganic. A car alarm rails below us, but simultaneously a skylark ups into view, calling for a mate. Shutters and flashes from a hundred digital cameras light up our sky, and in that same sky is the sun, sinking down with gradients of purple and luscious pink, the kind you want to kiss.

As father sun is swallowed up by our open ceiling, a child sucks down snot into the back of their throat and a Nokia ringtone rolls through the circle of hippie folk.

For me, the most natural thing I can do is to share this evening with everything existing in our world: a Chinook, a cool breeze smacking off the back of a plastic bottle, or a mushroom the size of my palm. Whatever it is, to me it feels as if it is all the same.