I asked for a black feather this morning. Manifesting a dream in the form of a pitch black quill. I wanted the feeling not being alone. Knowing my Spirit is with me.
Leaving nothing to chance, I visited a farm alive with chickens & guineas, birds with black feathers.
I thought I most attracted the dark side of the world, the shadows & the whispers.The crow as my Spirit Guide. I want to be connected with the mysteries & magic of life. I want its dark feathers surrounding me, Spirit near me, reminding me I am not alone.
Instead, a long white feather among some (still) green grass. Pointing up, tall & proud, as if to make sure I did not miss it’s presence. Inclined to pick it up, yet continued looking.
Not one feather of dark was to be found or seen. Or even gray. NONE.
Feeling slightly defeated, instead of the lifting I long for, we made our way home.
With a few moments to research, I found a white feather is one of the most well-known signs of an Angel visit. It is to be treasured and is a magical blessing. Left as a welcome remind that Angels are here for us if we need them & are watching over use each day.
I am not one to seek out an angel.
I would rather have the angels watch over my Littles, they need extra guardianship from their falls & flights.
Angels seem so ethereal. Flighty. Not much of a mysterious warrior, here to protect & stun. More of a quiet presence of peace & love.
I want ferocity. Intensity. Wild strong.
Instead, it seems, I am sent the softer side of protection.