Dream of: 05 April 1998 (2) "Gray Heron"

My father had given me a job working for him in a business which he owned. Even before beginning the job, however, I had decided not to work for my father, but to leave town instead. I had quite a bit of money saved up, and I had decided I was going to travel for a while, possibly in South America. The problem was that when my father had given me the job, he had also given me a piece of equipment to use on the job. The piece of equipment had previously been used by another man working for my father, and my father had taken the equipment from the other man to give to me. It seemed that now there was a question about $100 that either my father would now have to pay the other man, or that my father wouldn't receive from the other man, because the other man no longer had the equipment. Now that I was leaving, however, I thought I would just return the piece of equipment to the other man, and the question of the $100 would be resolved.

But I was worried that the piece of equipment no longer functioned well, and I felt bad because the piece of equipment was a living thing — a huge gray heron with a wing span probably two meters wide.

At present the heron was lying in an open field, somehow attached to the end of a long stick about three meters long. If the heron were going to survive, it must be raised off the ground and made to fly. Therefore, I approached the heron and picked up the end of the stick opposite the heron, trying to lift the heron off the ground. I was successful to a small degree — the heron barely rose off the ground. I began turning around in circles, holding the stick, tying to help the heron gain altitude. But suddenly a heavy wind blew up, almost causing me to lose control. The heron, obviously weak, looked as if it were going to crash, or be blown into some trees at the side of the field. I needed all my strength just to keep the heron in the air. At one point the heron spread out its wide gray wings and almost hit the ground, barely managing to stay aloft.

My father was also in the field, driving a tractor, screaming orders and advice to me about how to keep the heron in the air. High above his tractor flew another heron, moving in perfect synchronization with the tractor, the way it was supposed to be.

Finally I was able to raise the heron straight over my head. I didn't know how long I could maintain the strenuous position. Then suddenly something happened — the heron flew free of my stick. I let the stick fall to the ground. As the stick hit the ground, dried green leaves fell off the end, which was covered with small branches like a tree.

I ran in the direction of my father, with the heron flying high above me, staying in sync with me. I remembered the heron's name and called to it, "Pee Pee." The heron's strength seemed to have returned and it was able to majestically maintain its position above me. I hurried along calling its name to it over and over, hopeful that the crisis had passed.

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