Lakes, The Cranberries and a Gravel Pit.

Now that I’ve decided to move home, there are a lot of things that have been happening in my head that I feel freer to share than I did when I was feebly pretending that everything was fine with my merry little life here in Colorado.  That’s not to say that my life here in Colorado has been bad, but I don’t think that in one sense, I ever really uprooted myself from Wisconsin. 

Thats not to say I didn’t try.  I made every attempt I could think of to try and get myself over havling to leave home (read: Wisconsin).  I left most of the things that reminded me of home in Wisconsin, I left my favorite books, my music, my movie collection.  I left most everything that reminded me of that place.  I felt like I needed to start over.  In lots of important ways, I have started over since I moved here.  But there is one area where I’ve never been able to really move on….my dreams.

Since the first week I moved here two years ago, I’ve dreamt I was still in Wisconsin at least twice a week, usually more.  And the dreams are shockingly inane.  Normally, my dreams are very dramatic and extravagant in one way or another, perhaps some projection of my delusions of grandeur onto the world of my dreams.  But these dreams of home were immediately unsettling, more simple, more basic.  Let me give you an idea of what I mean.  Here are a brief renderings of just a few of them.

1.) I’m in my car, driving the streets of my hometown, visiting all the familiar places.  I’d swear to you it was real, and I’m just driving, alone in the car, on a spring day with the windows down.  Then, I sort of blink, and it’s winter, and the frost is on the trees, and the air is cold, and I’m bundled up in the car.  Then, I blink again, and it’s autumn, and the leaves are falling and the air has that delicious crispness to it.  Then, it’s spring, and I’m watching the green come back after the monochrome winter.  The dream is completely silent, there is no sound, only the feel of the air and the appearance of the land as it journey’s through the seasons.  This dream sometimes lasts me entire evenings. (Editor’s note:  the first time I went home after moving, my mom asked me if I still knew how to get places, and started trying to give me directions.  Little did she know I’d been driving around in my dreams since I left.)

2.) I’m sitting on the porch of a familiar place, a church camp that has been a refuge for me for years.  It’s autumn, but the air is still very comfortable.  I sit there, with the breeze on my face and rolling past my body, just taking it in. I’m there alone, except for the breeze.  This dream has also taken up entire evenings.  This is one it’s hard to wake up from because its so tranquil.  At least I feel rested after this dream.

3.) I’m at a tailgate party, laughing and laughing.  I never actually make it into the game, and really, the game is secondary.  It’s all about the people.  I miss tailgating.  Grilling out, have a few cocktails or sodas or whatever.  Just chilling out.  Then going to the game, and getting all hoarse from yelling (mostly because the Brewers suck).  Sitting around with the guys, figuring out how to amuse ourselves once we remember that the Brewers suck.  Mark Ho-retta will never die, by the way.  It’s a good time.

4.)  I’m standing in front of the house I grew up in, before we moved.  I walk down the path I knew as a kid, down to the gravel pit where I used to sneak off to and play.  I walk down the familiar paths of my childhood, and at one point, I kneel down and pick up the gravel from the ground, and crunch it in my hand.  I smell it.  I keep shuffling it in my hands and look at the forest around me.  I smell the earth, and the green aroma of the forest around me.  Then I wake up.

All of these dreams touch on basic things that I don’t think I’ve ever been able to shake about my home.  What is bizarre about them is that they are dreams.  Usually I don’t remember dreams that deal with such seemingly insignificant little things.  But these I remember without fail regularly.  I would have never believed I’d become that guy rooted in an area, but if these dreams are any indication, I’ve got some pretty deep roots.  Well, hopefully you’ve found this interesting.  I’m trying to get through some writers block to write a couple of papers.  Time to see if I’m through the wall yet or not.  Have a good one, folks.