Dream: Little House on the Mountain

Dream 20030318, 2:30 AM:

I’m talking with a woman. She needs to go up the mountain to see another woman and visit with her about her situation. I help her get up the mountain, which is a green, rolling-type mountain like in Arkansas or Tennessee. We ride up on a motorcycle, and the paths are very twisty adn curvy; often, it seems like how a very convoluted river will make a big loop when it seems easier to go straight across. At one point, I recall crossing straight across one of the loops, and having to go back and travel through the loop, as if it were absolutely necessary to traverse the entire path.

We finally get to our destination. The house is red, like the color of a barn, and it has wrought iron work over the windows. In retrospect, they remind me almost of exaggerated eyelashes over the “eyes” of the windows, although the comparison didn’t occur to me during the dream. A train goes by very near, and the woman I’m with explains that is the reason that they built this house here, seemingly so far from everything, because the train was so close. The woman who owns the house is explaining to us that she’s thinking she’s going to have to move on, that she’s done here. She tells us about how the house is built very permanently, on a cement slab – and I have a series of images in my mind about them building it. Now, though, the house looks like new treated cedar fencing, a yellowish brown color. She tells us that they added a row at the back, and I can see an image of a man who reminds me of Charles Ingalls from the Little House TV show, he comes home from a trip, and passes out money to the kids, giving each of them $10.

Then, I’m standing on the edge of the mountain, looking over the valley, and talking to the woman that I’m here with. It is an overcast night, and we can see just a few stars through the veil of cloud. I remark that “I hope it clears, beause the stars will be amazing from here.” The woman from the house says that only the grandkids come to visit now; she sounds wistful and sad. She knows that she needs to leave the house, but has emotional attachments to it.

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