We are the Avian Collective.
As I hear these words, I see the following. A large bird head, that is reminiscent of an eagle. This is the voice of the collective.
There is a body and wings, and these are made up of groups of species and in turn, individual birds and the wings are open and stretched out and back and I know the “back” is … back into time and into history, and the wingtips meet the horizon and the sun provides a golden halo around the bird head as it too, sits on the horizon.
-I think I might have to draw or paint that you know.
-I can feel your thoughts and concepts coming through. Do you have a specific message for me at this time?
The concepts arrange themselves like several flocks of flying birds, coming closer and then back away again.
We will wait for a landing
When the birds were grounded I heard:
You have noticed the abundance of birds.
-I have, absolutely. We have far more, and more species this year than ever.
Did you not realize you have been calling us?
-No. How have I been calling you? And why would you come if I did?
You have had a focus upon a singular particular frequency that matches our own.
And what would that frequency be?