Winter Spirit

The weather has turned unbelievably cold. North Wind has set up shop; the temperatures hover around -20C and silent Snow covers the ground.

The Wind chimes sometimes catch in a wee draught from North Wind.  The sound is fragile...like crystalline tunes heard in a dream...

One cannot walk anywhere outside in the Snow in silence. It sounds very like shards of glass breaking underfoot; the crunching of footfalls in the dry Snow travels far.

I dreamt, early this morning, of Snow and Ice...and dance. The Snow and Ice cannot be deemed unusual, what with every Tree, Shrub and Field covered with the white stuff. But the dance...


In my dream, I am walking through a silent, ghostly forested area. Snow hangs low from Cedar branches which look as if they could break and shatter from the weight and cold.

I feel a sense of urgency...and yet, I do not know where my destination lies.


It is night time, but the path I follow is lit by the silvery light of a full Moon. Snow lies everywhere, reflecting Moon's twinkling rays in crystals of Ice.


I'm not aware of the beauty here; I am completely intent on reaching a wee Log cabin situated in the far distance. Smoke issues forth from a small chimney...a welcoming sight, indeed. 


The cold does not bother me, although it appears I have very little clothing covering my body. I notice, as I quickly near the end of the forested path, a necklace of Feathers hanging from a long, icy Cedar Branch.

I snatch these off the branch...and in so doing, I release a shower of Snowflakes, which twinkle and glisten in the ivory light as they descend, like dancing Fairies, ever so soft and slow, to the ground.


I do not comprehend, in my hurried state, why the Feather necklace is so important, yet I know it is.


As if the path had never been, as if the cottage was never there, I am abruptly catapulted onto an expansive, Snow-white Plateau, completely surrounded by Mountain ranges.

I am wearing the necklace now.


People...figures, at least...are dancing, more and more of them appear, as I stare across the vast Plateau. They are like shadows, like mist, swirling here and there, sometimes with ferocity and sometimes swaying softly, as a mother might with a child in her arms.

There is no colour anywhere. All is white, even the figures. The only spot of colour...vibrant, in some cases...are the necklaces of Feathers, which swirl and sway, as fluffy and light as the Snowflakes falling unabated.

I glance down at the Feathers around my neck. They are brown, a deeply, intensely rich brown.


From somewhere else, another plane, I watch myself join the dance.  The necklace of brown Feathers floats and flies along with the swaying of my body, just as they do on the rest of the dancing figures.

I am the watcher and the participant, all at the same time. I watch and sense myself experiencing joy...happiness and freedom, liberation...as I dance. And then, oh, wonder! I actually allow myself to feel it, to open the arcane, mysterious well within...to become as one with the Winter Spirit.


I dance hard, in my dream. Hard and fast and furious and long...and then finally, gently swaying, like a soft breeze swirling through a stand of Willows.

And then, I hear a song. It begins as a quiet hum, builds in intensity, until it seems to consume me, originating from a magical, mystifying spot deep inside me.


I dance and sing, there on the wide, white Plateau, with the surrounding Mountains as my audience.

I am awakened by a cold nose pressed against my cheek. It is 4:30 AM; Lucky must have been concerned hearing and seeing me thrashing about in the bed. The bed covers are completely tangled.

It feels as if I am still dreaming, as I open the door and let both Dogs out into the freezing cold. It is utterly still...not even the traffic on the highway far below shatters the hush.

But, as in my dream, it is bright white outside. I would have no trouble walking about and finding my way.


I look towards the path at the bottom of the hill. It is so like the one I followed in my dream. I wonder what would happen should I choose to follow it, now, when the magic of the dream still seems a distinct part of me.

Would I find the Winter Spirit dancers? I want to dance in the cold once again. It appears, however, I would have to be dreaming, since it is unlikely my body would be able to dance as wildly and freely as it did on the Snow-blanketed Plateau.


There was no pain in my dream dance.


The song has not left me. I find myself humming it throughout the day. It has no real tune; at least, it is not a song I've remembered hearing...

Winter has arrived. The Winter Spirit does not care about dates; he comes on his own time. Being early or late really doesn't figure into things.


And I have choices. I can dither and complain about Winter's cold, I can dread it with every fibre of my being.


Or I can focus on the beauty of Winter, marvel at the crystalline cold, have anticipation filled with joy for the Christmas season...


And if I can't dance as well as I did in my dream, I can sway.


And I can sing my song... 

The song given to me, in a dream, by the Winter Spirit.

Spider's Visit

Years and years ago, my son-in-law told me a story about how a person could swallow Spiders whilst sleeping. 

I didn't think I was concerned about this phenomenon one way or the other. People either believed or not; there are endless stories for and against here, in the UK Guardian newspaper.

And I like Grandmother Spider.  I wrote about her in a former post entitled Weaver of Dreams. I know what she represents and what her message is. I only wish she wouldn't take such extreme measures to give it.


My sleep has been disturbed, these last few days. I am fighting a virus, I think...and so I went to bed early one night, remembering the old mantra of plenty of rest and fluids in battling the flu.

I fell into a feverish sleep. I swooped into a dream about Grandmother Spider...in my dream, she wore a huge, slightly malicious grin, as she spun her web around my head.

I awoke, feeling dreadful. It felt as if my braid had draped itself over my forehead, and I moved my hand to move it...but my hand encountered Spider instead.


Involuntarily, I swept her off.  It was very dark; I felt ill...and I felt sure I had dashed Spider to the floor, where no doubt she had scurried for cover.


Settling myself once again, feeling very hot, I left my arm out from under the covers. It was not long before I felt Spider's quick crawl up my arm, back to where she had begun her web...which happened to be somewhere in the vicinity of my head.


Irritated now, I once more swept Spider off into places unknown, into the dark. And then, I turned on the light...enough was enough.

And there was Spider, quite brazen and bold, on the coverlet, once more heading, very quickly, towards where my head had lain. The light stopped her, and she hesitated.  And then she stood up!


Well.

Here's a video of a Spider standing up.  Although my Spider wasn't as big, she looked very similar to the Lady Spider in the clip. My Spider was hairy, too.


Spider was feeling threatened. As was I, if I'd had time to think about things. It seemed to be a stand-off for a small moment in time.


(How can Graham sleep through all the commotion around him, these last few weeks? This never ceases to awe and amaze me.)


I remembered my dream...Grandmother Spider had been grinning,without humour, in that dream...this Spider showed a lack of humour, as well.

The split second stand-off over, without really thinking, I dashed Spider to the floor with my hand.  Had I taken a tissue and deposited her outside, into -8C windy weather, as I do during the normal course of events, I would not be in the predicament I'm in now.


I did not have my glasses on.  Feverish, sure I would succumb to the nausea that threatened, I searched myopically for Spider.  


She was gone. Nowhere to be seen. This Spider moved faster than any I had ever had contact with.


I have not found her.  I have vacuumed every inch, I have changed the bedding, I have dusted throughout.

My son-in-law may have been right...One thing I am positive about is Spider could easily have moved into my mouth, probably climbing out again, given her size.


Unless I had swallowed. 

There is always that to think about.