I've always collected feathers and thought of them as messengers. I find them on walks, they show up in odd places, and always they seem to be timely.
Yesterday a client and I were standing and talking after her session. We were talking about her mother, who had died when she was five. We stood for about twenty minutes, in the hallway, just leaning against the walls and chatting at the end of the day, talking about connecting to the other side and stories of messages from beyond, both my stories and hers.
She turned and walked to the front door, and as she did, a small white downy feather came floating down behind her. I couldn't tell if it came off her, or from her, or if it was something else? Pure white, it floated slowly down, calling attention to itself in it's solitary path.
She had nothing feathery on, nor did I.
She had not been laying on a feather pillow.
Was it from her mother? From someone else? Or just a splendid coincidence?