R.E.M. CYCLES DREAM TIDBITS
by Chuck Van Drunen
FROM NOCTURAL NOTIONS
here was no particular image of who or what I was talking ...-..-1111111111 he subtle signs of drought were begining to show this past summer. The ponderosa pine tree in my back yard to, and I'm not sure there were even words that I spoke. mysteriously began to die on one side, while the general It was more of a heart energy or plea that was neither lack of rain seemed to make the town generally more contrite or tempered. The request floated in the air and dusty and hotter than normal. It felt, to me, almost like filled the space I was in. The intesity of the request was specific, sharp, and to the point in requiring liquid nourishment for the suns rays themselves were more intense than usual. my forest. rips to the Zuni mountains began to reveal large swaths of pinion trees that has turned brown. I' m told the was shocked to receive a relatively quick reply from a faceless/ drought weakened the pinion allowing the pine beetles to formless entity. It was even more shocking that there was a overtake them more easily without proper sap impatient harsheness in the tone of the response: "WHO ARE production to repel them. I see other large areas of YOU TO BE SO DEMANDING?" pinion dying in Ramah, and near Smith Lake. was immediately filled with a shameful fear, as the question was n a mountain bike ride in the forest I begin to feel a legitimate inquisistion upon which I had no weighty answer to sad at the thought of the forest burning down or the reply with. Indeed...who am I to be so demanding? ponderosas themselves finally being overtaken by the stresses related to a lack of moisture. ot sure how to respond I began to formulate a backpedalling response not terribly disimilar toJob's ver that month a pressure built up in me, an emotion of when his demands were actually answered in the deep sadness,but not one of resigniation. I thought, "if biblical text. thisforest dies, then I will die with it; I will not abandon it. I will hold it's hand on the metaphorical hospice bed et before I could expunge any syllables to that effect there if necessary." was a change in demeanor of my faceless host. There was a sublte softness and and genteleness that seems to fill the 11 of these thoughts perhaps culimated and climaxed into the dream I was to have a few days later. space.
n my dream I was present with all these thoughts and emotions and I had decided that the only recourse I had was to make a direct plea for Divine intervention on behalf on my beloved forest.
hen somehow the stranger inserted into the eye of my mind the image of the gospel story ofJesus making lOO's of gallons of wine for people already drunk at a party.
ext was the image of what happened right before that. There was Mary stubbornly askingJesus to do something that silly. .._.,..._ inally there was the image of Jesus looking at Mary and saying rather harshly, "Woman! Why do you involve me." ut then He deeply smiled and honored her request anyway.
nd then I woke up.
16
April 2022
