Spring Sunshine On The Mountains This Morning!

Dream

March 18, 2024

Had a dream I was living at a place my aunt had, it was nice but it needed some fixing up. There were a lot of old items lying around, knick knacks and a light blue suitcase. I had made a doll that looked a little like a vampire Gregory doll I made but wasn’t of anyone in particular and it had rainbow hair, and was a girl doll. Then I left for a moment and when I came back I couldn’t find it. I was searching everywhere for it but my aunt had been rearranging, with dolls here and there, but she was on the phone and I couldn’t ask her where the doll was, actually I’d had two dolls. She wasn’t sure what I was looking for so she tried to give me other items but I didn’t take them and couldn’t tell her about the missing dolls because she was still on the phone. I started to feel tired and dizzy and just sort of fell asleep there.

When I woke up, someone had moved me to a place with pillows and blankets, not a bed exactly. I wasn’t sure what had happened or where I was.

Then the vampire Maharet came with a small retinue of girls. They were all very beautiful and wearing colorful gowns. Maharet had yellow eyes, very vampiric, almost scary, but then she smiled and kind of giggled and I felt that she was like a girl, and I felt okay. She looked like an actress that had played her in the dream awhile ago, but still looked super young so I knew it was her.

Then she got closer, kneeling over me, and put something sharp, like a nail, under my chin, and I told her, “not my neck!” but the sharp thing went through the underside of my chin and she drank, and then I tasted her blood coming up through the same wound. She said something after that but I can’t remember what.

Then they gave me some towels to wipe the blood off my mouth and I passed out or fell asleep again.

When I woke, someone had moved me again and I was in a nice bed with a nice blanket, and someone was describing to me that things should change in particular ways, all the glass should be oiled or washed, there should be no fabric hangings on the wall, only certain paintings should be on the walls, also that I shouldn’t be around “gaseous odors” and my leg was infected. I pulled back the blanket to look, and it looked ghastly, peeling, scabs covering half my leg, almost looking infected.

After that, I went out to explore the area of this new place and I think I was sent to another place on some sort of mission or trip. It was a beautiful city like out of a fantasy movie. It had stone structure that was light peach in color, big open places to gather, narrower streets and very narrow side streets that were almost impassable if there was anything in the street, but there were lamps overhead on the walls, and it was beautiful with a sense of cleanliness and simplicity.

I was a newcomer there and was just learning the basics. They were like a city outside of time. Everyone there seemed to know what was expected and got along, or seemed to, and they were generally peaceable. I was walking to where my own room was and passed a place where girls were taking baths. There were little rows of blue pools, with tiny separators so everyone got their own sense of having their own bath. When one wasn’t in use, you could just go up and step in to get your bath. All the girls wore beautiful gowns that they kept on to bathe. I was in a hurry so I didn’t get a bath.

Just past the baths, I came to another place that was a little like a display room from a pet shop or a zoo, that was separated from passersby with glass, and some ventilating material. Two men, already bloodied and exhausted, appeared to be fighting to the death, or it might have been a man and a woman whose face I couldn’t see.

They both dealt the final death blow to each other at the same time. I turned away, making my way away from there, and found four tiny stone Buddha heads on the ground, that had just appeared, for each of them, eight in total. How odd, I thought. Then the statues began to move, twisting and writhing, and then they began to cry. The Buddha heads had turned into baby Buddhas, four for each life that had been lost there.

I went to check out the room that was waiting for me and accidentally fell asleep, even though I really felt to get one of those baths would be great.

The next day I woke up and had to go somewhere like to class and I didn’t have time to get a bath and was super miserable because I was dirty and my knee had blood oozing from a bandage.

They gave me little packets that I had to open to load videos on a computer. Each packet had two videos. Once I watched the videos, I had to seal up the little package and send it back so they knew I’d watched the required video.

Someone was trying to help me, to show me how to do it, but he pulled the backing off too much of the sticky tape and it stuck together.

Then we had a get together that night. We were given a variety of t-shirts and present to share among ourselves. Nobody was particularly interested in the stuff, so they gave me some of it out of pity, because I looked like I needed it, still being a bit dirty and bandaged up.

One of the items was a packaged set of vials, of different colors, looking like medicinal herbal extracts or fruit juices. I seemed to be the only one who thought that looked good, so I was looking at it, considering opening it, and a guy took it from me and told me he would show me what it does. I was like, “okay...” but a bit skeptical.

He pulled out a particular vial, popped down on the seal, and from the bottom of the vial, a crystal cup appeared. Into this, he poured out the liquid, and it turned light and clear, slightly fizzy. He did this again with another vial so he had one to drink too.

He told me to taste it and held up his glass to toast. We toasted and drank. It was the lightest and sweetest thing I ever had to drink. Then he tried to get me to let him drink from my cup while I drank from his, but if we did that we’d be kind of married, so I said no, because he was trying to trick me, and I said, “I see what you did there!”

I wanted to finish the cup of champagne, but I had to go. There was someone who had invited me to his shop where they sold sweets, especially there was a kind of bean that I thought would be good.

I stopped in, it was an Arab shop, and got a free item like red and green jellies, then tried a little mountain shaped cinnamon roll on a stick, then I got the beans I wanted and was buying my stuff but there was some confusion about price and they gave me a whole box of the red and green jellies for free.

Then I joined some others and we were traveling by helicopter around the area. I met someone who asked for my autograph which I thought was strange. I wasn’t sure if she had some ulterior motive, and didn’t find out. Our group was traveling again and some of them would jump out of the helicopter into the water. Then I awoke.

These Flowers Remember You

These flowers, they remember you.

They miss you and your gentle touch,

The yellows, reds and bonny blues.

How do I know they tell as much?

Though, as from fairy gardens snuck,

They're silk and bought with only cents.

They tell me as I pull and pluck;

Their buds make otherworldly scents.

Lore

Lore

Long ago, before time began, a girl snuggled by a fire. She’d been lost in a winter storm and had been infinitely lucky to be found by a perfect stranger who took her in, and fed her some stew, and let her rest on a thick pile of furs in a stone cavern that he shared with no one else.

He asked her many questions about who she was, and where she came from, and what she’d been taught by her tribe. He sighed bitterly as she’d responded, and made a despondent face that she thought made him look like an old tree, full of knobs and burrows. This face made her laugh a long rippling laugh that echoed through the cavern as if it wasn’t winter, and there wasn’t pure darkness outside but only summer sunshine on bubbling brooks. He smiled despite himself, and his face brightened, as did his eyes. He seemed young again as he explained to her, “I’ll teach you truth,” and then winked. So he began to teach her the true, ancient lore of the tribes, as he knew it.

“You’ve told me that your tribe has taught you a bird hatches from an egg,” he said, beginning. “But they must then ask themselves, which comes first, the bird or the egg? I can tell you where the first bird came from, though you must be warned, the story is told in a roundabout way.”

She nodded sleepily; a hearty bowl of stew, mixed with the exhaustion of the day, was catching up with her. He continued.

“In the beginning the trees lived happily with no cares. They took joy in bathing in the sunlight, and absorbing all available nutrients, in both soil and water; but in their hearts, they remembered a time when they were souls, like the souls of human beings and all the moving creatures of Earth. They longed for freedom and God joyously granted their wish. The trees grew buds along their branches that didn’t become leaves or flowers; they became birds. These birds sang, and danced and flew. They were…the first birds.

“It’s true that some birds now are able to hatch their young in haphazard nests, in a tree’s branches, but this is mimicry. True birds hatch directly from a tree’s heart because they are the soul of the tree longing to be free.

“When a bird dies, a true bird, it becomes a tree again. On the first day after death, it looks like a bird, and on the second it becomes less recognizable; on the third day it has generally become a dry pile of leaves and twigs; sometimes a wet pile, but those are usually indistinguishable.” He laughed a bit and said, “This is the true lore of our tribes.”

A faint snore came from the girl who was supposed to be listening. He wasn’t sure if she was still awake because her eyes had closed. Oh well, he thought, and settled down to sleep in his soft furs as well.

She spent the rest of the winter with the old man, and helped him with any chores that needed doing, and she spent the summers traveling the wilderness area near the cave but always returned in winter. When fall came, she felt the length of her straw-colored hair resonate with the straw-colored strands of wild grass in the plain. She felt the pull of light and shadow in the forest as she stepped lightly through paths on the forest floor. She felt herself blending in and learned to melt into the shadows when necessary.

“This is the true lore of our tribes.” It was as he said, and she understood it; life morphed into and expressed itself in many forms, always creating, changing, adapting, mimicking, reshaping and recreating. It reached for itself or the sky. Her favorite brightly-colored yellow flowers mimicked the shape and color of the sun that nurtured them. The forest inhabitants emulated each another. The antlers of the stag emulated tree branches and a moth’s delicate wings replicated the shade of a tree’s bark perfectly. She wondered if her lost tribe came from trees, as well; perhaps all animated beings were no more than the spirits of ancient trees set free.

She spent the cold, harsh winter nights with the man in the cave; she nestled in his arms tenderly as he told her many new tales of the adventures of his early days and of his people. He also listened as she explained the discoveries she’d made in the woods; eventually, she knew he was her soul mate. Days, months, and seasons passed, and they bore young together, tiny miraculous mirrors of the mother and father. When the old man watched them playing together on the floor of their small cave, he remembered himself saying, “This is the true lore of our tribes,” but he understood more fully what it meant.

It was years later, after their children had long left in search of opportunity, and the old man couldn’t lift himself to leave the cave even in summer, that the woman found out the truth about the man she’d fallen in love with and spent her life with. He breathed his last breath into her arms as she cried.

She held onto his body a long time because it was the only thing she had left to hold on to. She held him all night on the first night, and all night on the second. She hugged his withered bones and didn’t try to move him. She awoke on the third day, still hugging his body to hers, and she knew she would have to find a place in the ground for him and perform whatever ritual her heart was able to complete. She began to lift his body from where it lay but recognized with amazed wonder, his body was gone! In its place was a dry and brittle mass of knobby limbs and branches; the only remnant of her love, whose true form she now knew, was that of a mutative and primordial tree.

The Thunderbirds had babies! <3 Hadn't seen them in awhile and now I know why. <3

I do not laugh at fate; I merely laugh, and fate smiles upon me. 🌞