10 February 2005
Mountain Dream
I dreamed last night that I rented a car and visited my former mountain neighbor, Ira. In real life, his house is perched on a high cliff. But in my dream, it seemed to float above the treetops. From the deck, I could look straight down onto the tops of tall, tall evergreens as they waved gracefully in the wind, and for a long time there was no sound except the wind in those trees.
On a distant ridge I could see a wide road (this neighborhood is all single-lane dirt roads), blockaded by pickup trucks and piles of building materials, leading through a row of stone arches to a construction site where a grand castle was being built. I asked Ira about it, and he explained that it was going to be a retreat for rich Arabs, and that no one in the neighborhood liked it.
Then we began to plot how to sneak into my old property. We knew that if we were caught trespassing, there or on any of the intervening parcels, we might be shot. The best route would be along the creek bed, where there was plenty of cover. But at the castle on the far ridge, the construction workers had the special ability to see us no matter what. They might even have snipers.
The plan was too dangerous. Ultimately we decided against it, and my heart was broken. For a while, we listened to the wind in the trees again. I asked if I could come back and visit another time, and Ira said I'd be most welcome. But I knew it would only break my heart again.