Since the site doesn't want me to begin with a greeting, I'll dispense with the formalities...not!
Hello! God bless you and keep you well today, dear reader!
This is an account of an instance at the peak of my aura-seeing days. The ability has gone now, probably due to some block that doesn't want me to be a freak coming out of the sub-conscious.
Dad and older cousin Melanie and I went to a local site of a Historical Battle from the 1780's. Not a big famous battle. Most of our town goes completely unaware of the site and it's history. In fact, I'll have to ask Dad, myself what the history was *Blush*.
Anyhow, I was 12ish, I had been seeing auras since around 8 I guess.
The auras for me never had this moodstone color coding system that seems commonplace. I could read the color and for every person, different colors meant different things. Now that I think about it, I guess I was looking at what pink, or black with silver lines meant to that person and translating it in my consciousness, mind, whatever. I was getting pretty sharp at it and hung out mostly in the realm of auras only popping back in to be sentient-looking enough to answer a authority figure.
Back to our historical site: Today was a freaky day. It was the day I saw a aura with no person! I had become used to the feeling of being put upon by a person and could keep my grace from practice. This was different!
I stand in among the trees. A old fireplace still standing, no house. A path that's not a path becomes obvious. "What kind of trail is that Dad?" "That's just a patch of grass." Looking. What is it? Why? Then. There. Barely there. I can't remember the color. But it was the right shape and it was moving. I could feel his duty's and his weariness. There was sorrow in that there was no choice for him. Do and do and do forever.
I became overwhelmed. I was sometimes semi-open with family about the things I experienced. I insisted we leave and gave a pretty good explanation. Dad loved this day. Hehe (Cute, proud, history buff Dad)