Josh and I sat on the old weathered dock that extended a little ways out into the small lake that rested at the back of the woods about half a mile behind granddads old home place. When I felt Joshs' hand jab into my side I turned and when I turned I followed his gaze because I too then saw what he was looking at. Two round, clear, spheres; soap bubbles as best I can describe them that floated out of the pines, crossed the lake and stopped motionless, still, taking a stationary position probably no more than ten feet in front of us hovering a mans' height above the water as we sat paralyzed in our place.
The spheres communicated to us although no sounds were exchanged, it was all telepathic. The first things they said was "Why are you afraid?" Why do you think about escaping, running away, why are you thinking about the dangers that you imagine?" "Understand this: We had the same creator. We started on the same course. You rebelled. We didn't. You now live in fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what you call death. In the beginning you wanted and you took the apple. We did not. You tied yourselves to the earth. Now for you everything has weight. Now your gravity, that is , the earth, pulls on you all your days like hands from the grave. To deal with this you invented things but still they were the wrong things. You created time and now you life is measured by it. You took random worthless things, just rocks and coal and dirt and assigned value to them. Why? Just to fight over. To create jealously. So some can have and some can not. To long for, to covet. Strive for a diamond. Kill for gold. I have My rocks! You can't have MY dirt! And later you become dirt and dust yourself. You become someone elses' coal, another persons forest floor. You invented hate. Because we did not rebell we spent our time thinking, being, not doing. We evolved into spirit. We do not rank. We do not assign value. WE know everything created has value. That is enough. You are afraid because you know these things. You know these things are true. Your first reaction is to run, to hide. Like the two in the garden. You learned all to well to hate and fear the snake, but you still want that apple. You still want that apple. Think about that."
With this, the spheres assured us that there was no particular reason why they were here. They were in essence just visiting. Now they would leave. There was no good-bye. The spheres or soap bubbles as best I can describe them just floated away.
Me and Josh never spoke of this. I've kept it to myself all these years. Nobody believes things like this anyhow. I guess I'm old enough now that I just don't care anymore.
I still fish there. Josh never returned to that place.