There was a controlled burn yesterday in the Santa Fe National Forest. We could see smoke billowing up to the east of us all day. They’re good here, though – they put up highway signs and send tweets telling us that’s the case. Over night, the smoke all settled down into the valley.
It smells like a campfire today. Only without the marshmallows.
I’ve been having different dreams the last couple of nights. Unusual images. Monday night I dreamed that David and I were driving over a bridge, the kind of high, arching white ones that span the waters between the mainland and barrier islands. David was driving. I looked down to see that there were whales teeming in the water below. Great blue whales, hundreds of them. They raised their heads out of the water, splashed their tails, rubbed noses, feeding and frolicking. David asked me if I wanted to pull over to take pictures and I said yes. As I was walking back to the car to change lenses (I know – look at me, even dreaming about changing lenses now!) I saw David talking to our daughter Lauren, her guy Damion and our grandson, Tobiah. I was surprised to see them there, to see there were tons of people there now, and Lauren said, oh yes, people were coming from all over to see the whales, such an extraordinary event.
Last night, the dream seemed more like my usual quest dream. I think we were running around saving kidnapped people. There were Russians involved and a maximum security prison. Your dreams are like this, too, right? Anyway, at the end of the dream, David reached into his bag and pulled out this enormous black frog. From this drawing you should conclude that, yes, my MS Paint skills suck, and that it looked like no real frog on earth. It was glossy and turgid, like one of those balloons you can get at the grocery store.
The frog looked unhappy, so I told David to put it in the sink and fill the basin with water. The frog lay submerged in the water, watching us with crystal blue eyes and smiling.
Yes. Frogs can smile. Especially the big, black ones.
At any rate, I’m taking this as things welling up from my subconscious. Amazing creatures, joyfulness and restoration, emerging from dark and hidden places.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Though I’m willing to entertain other interpretations?
9 Replies to “Smoke in the Valley”
Thanks for the fish? Are the whales leaving?
LOL. No, it wasn't a Hitchhiker's Guide thing. They were happy whales.
If you were my sister, I'd say you're afraid that someone's going to invite you on a trip somewhere and you'll have to cross a bridge to get to it but when you get there, you'll be kidnapped in the Black Toad Forest by a man with blue eyes and a Russian accent. Then, you'll have to warm yourself with whale blubber.
But you're not my sister, so I think you might've just ate something that was a little off. Or you've been watching too many documentaries and action/adventure movies 😉
Black frog anh…WWRD?
LOL, KAK! It definitely had elements of that to it.
Danica – do we dare ask what your sister is like?
She's bridgeaphobic…I dobut that's the right word, but she's paranoid about crossing bridges and the rest of that stuff is just typical of what would happen to someone in my family. LOL
Ah, I get it now! I love how you managed to wrap all the salient details into the story.
That frog obviously is a Rorschach ink blot test image, designed to dredge up things from your subconscious! 🙂
That's it, Miriam! NOTHING to do with my lame Paint skillz.