Finally, I’ve had a fully fantastic flying dream. It’s been a long time. Dreaming is my other reality and a very important part of my life that just ain’t happening much these days. And flying – I’ve only had a smattering of those since my youth. Friday night we were camping at Rocky Ford on the Myakka River, FL. I was watching a bright moon pass over as I finally fell asleep.
Then my mother, my son Ray and I were puttering in the kitchen of an old Florida house, wide veranda and open doors drawing in the breeze. I noticed a strange shudder ripple the water in the sink. A quake? I looked out at a massing black funnel cloud barreling towards us, drawn by huge gusts of wind. Leaves, branches, soon, up-rooted trees flew by. The house rattled, banged, shook loose from its moorings (I know – Just like Dorothy’s in the Wizard of Oz.) and started spinning up through the air.
I grabbed mom’s hand and yelled at Ray to grab the other. As the house started dipping and diving towards earth, I saw a man standing, staring up at us, hand like an antenna raised high, fingers wide. As we slid down and off the veranda, the man reached out, until our fingers touched, hands linking, and pulled us back to earth like errant floating balloons. A fearless exhilarating energy infused us all in the moment.
Welcome back you crazy dreams. I’ve missed you.