12/16/1997

I had a dream once. I was walking along a narrow, asphalt street on an exceptionally bright and clear day. It was a place that reminded me of the Oregon coast. The street was on a cliff that over-looked the ocean and there was an occasional small house along the way. The sky was so fair and filled with light and there was a breeze, the air washing over the land like a nourishing tide over a reef.

As I walked past a disheveled little house, a woman came out and said something to me. I don’t remember what it was but she seemed unhappy with me about something. Like her house, and her overgrown little yard with its deteriorating picket fence, she appeared old, rough and unkempt. For some reason, it made me very happy to be in this place, to see her, to see her house and her yard, to be bathed in this extraordinary light, and to breathe this air.

Later, while thinking about this dream, I came to believe that it was a vision of Heaven and thought how curious it was… the neglected lawn, the crumbling fence, the grouchy old woman, the wind and the light.