6:59 a.m. We had some terrible storms last night. I forget sometimes how fierce the weather can be out here on the Great Plains. I woke up around 2am to the bright, almost non-stop flash of lightening through my bedroom window. The rumble and crash of the thunder rolled over me like waves. I was disoriented and it took me a moment to realize where I was. I was at Mom and Dad's. And I had been dreaming. They weren't exactly good dreams, either. I was unsettled. I lay back on my pillow and looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember what had disturbed me so.
The first image I remember was of a jar. It was about half full of peanut butter. In my dream, I gazed into the jar and was sickened to see blood swirled in with the food. Then the dream changed and I was lying on my back in the tall grass of a swamp. My body was partially submerged in shallow water from my chest down. I couldn't move...could only stare up at the blue sky. I suddenly realized I was a corpse. I had been murdered. And with that realization I rose above myself and looked down. From that moment, I would switch back and forth from observing from above to being inside my lifeless body.
There were bugs skittering across my legs and I felt the sharp pinch of crabs chewing on my fingertips. I knew it must be at least 80 degrees, but I was so, so cold. I hate being cold. I could hear the brush moving and caught glimpses of blue uniforms. Investigators were searching for me. Finally, somebody spotted me. "Over here guys! I found it."
A middle-aged cop stood over me, gazing into my vacant, dead eyes. Eyes that never closed because at the moment of death they were open in shock and fear. I was covered in blood and dirt and my leg was turned in an unnatural way. I knew it was very, very broken.
Then the dream flashed into a completely different scene. I was in my mother's garden. It was a beautiful, sunny day. I could hear bees buzzing around the flowers as I sat on the ground, concentrating on the contents of a glass of water. I was busy making a bird, you see. Yes, making. I was creating a beautiful yellow chick inside the glass. I didn't know quite how I was doing it, but eventually I finished and watched the little bird surface. I picked it up and cupped it in my hand. And as I gazed at the bird, I felt a sudden, fierce love for it. I wanted to nurture it. It was life and it was good.
Freud would have a field day with that. He'd pobably say I was stuck in the oral phase and wasn't breastfed long enough. (Thanks a lot, Mom.)
This morning I am headed up to Theif River Falls where I will be working a case, but more importantly, I'll be meeting Peri! She and I will go out and play on Friday night. We are still hopeful that we can find a mechanical bull, but barring that we'll settle for a goat or maybe a small elk.