6 senses

6 Senses

 

It's true!  We do have six senses.  Just to refresh your memory here they are: 

 

1. Hearing.

2.  Sight.

3. Smell.

4. Taste.

5. Touch.

6. Sixth Sense(the sense of mystery, adventure  and of the unknown)

 

 It is to that Sixth Sense that I want to speak. 

When using the first five senses we gather so much information that we think we are aware of everything that goes on in this old Universe.  But even when all five are perfect, we are only receiving a small part of what is happening.  For instance, our ears do not begin to hear all that is going on around us.  Just as an example, try hearing the TV and radio waves.  And our eyes cannot see the billions of little creatures fluttering and dashing all about.  Dogs can out smell us one hundred to one, and our touch will never be sensitive enough to feel the shape of a snow flake, or to touch a sunbeam. 

But our sixth sense opens the Universe for us.  It is through our Sixth Sense, that we create all of the marvels, both real and imagined, that surround us.  It is through our sixth sense, given free reign, that we create Fairies(Tinker Bell), and Ferry's(Toot Toot).  We think it, and behold, our sixth sense leads us to a door through which we find the secrets to make it real.  A Boeing 747, a delicate hand tooled broach.  A story about a little girl who watches a white rabbit jump down a hole, and she follows him to great ad ventures.  A space ship, the Enterprise, exploring distant worlds and strange Beings.  Time travel to the distant past and then to the far off future. 

And then something strange happens.  On a moonlit night, far miles from any other human beings, a  smoky figure stands at the end of our bed in the gloom, in the middle of the forest, without a single door opening and all windows closed and latched.  Just Cathy and me. 

Cathy murmurs, "Who are you?"  and the blurry head turns to look at her and slowly fades away. 

"That was my dad," Cathy cries.  "He was wearing his fishing hat and I know that jacket anywhere." 

We lay there, just holding onto one another, slowly rising and falling, floating in the wash of our Sixth Sense.  Knowing that it couldn't be Mike.  He had died three years earlier. 

Far off a coyote howled and something large crashed through the dark underbrush.  And then, all was quiet. 

 

Curious Carl