“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(First, I was hiking with her father Del along mountain trails in very deep snow. There were many other people about; it wasn’t an isolated-type setting. Up and down and around we went. Then Del left me for some reason, and alone I tried to continue — but wound up clinging motionless to a very steep slope lest I slide way down into a deep ravine that would be very difficult to get out of. Then Del returned; he wore clean, modern, tailored hiking clothes, a wool jacket and a fedora with a feather in it — much sharper than he dresses in real life. He also looked much younger and more self-possessed than I’d ever seen him be.

(As we talked, something triggered Jane’s memory of a time in her teens when she’d hiked all the way out to the garage where her grandfather had worked in Saratoga Springs — “way across town.” She thought she could have been in the eighth grade. Jane remembered looking down into a puddle and composing a poem. She even remembered at least some of it: