The Laughing Wolf

An Odd Connection

Reading this post at Eric's reminded me of an odd moment this weekend. Whilst spending time outside in the snow, I had one of those sudden bits of deja that can afflict one from time to time.

One of the earliest dreams of my death began, I think, in high school. In this dream, I am in a C-130, geared up for a low-level jump. So low, in fact, that we do not have on reserves, for if the main does not work there will be no time for such. We are in mountains, known but unsaid. The ramp is going down, and below -- far too close -- is ground moving by. Long stretches of snow with patches of snow-covered evergreens and the occasional nasty bit of rock are going by in vivid detail. Somehow I know that I die not in the jump, but afterwards.

This weekend, out at Wolf Park, I looked up at some evergreens and it hit. The snow in the trees was as I saw it in that dream. A very different angle, but the same. It hit fast, and faded. For a moment longer I stared at it, simply enjoying the beauty of the sight.

LW