I had a dream last night that I was not only able to remember, but which rendered itself as my personal mini-epic.
In my dream I was approaching the Sidney Tappan Campsite in Maine, on the Appalachian Trail, above the Katahdin Iron Works road. I am able to remember this site easily. It was a small, simple place, but an inviting one, one that is rarely found at elevation. It is just the type of place that one would expect a caretaker, but none has been posted, yet. The day I moved through there was no one there.
In my dream I am standing on the Trail, and looking uphill through misty clouds. Both sides of the Trail are crammed with tents, hundreds, maybe thousands of tents of all colors and shapes, each with quiet people nearby, standing or sitting. We were waiting to move forward, but all taking our time. I was aware that we were all aware of a huge presence that we were participants in.
I feel fortunate to have such a dream.
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