Dream of a River Flowing on a Wooden Riverbed

I woke this morning from a dream about a river flowing on a wooden riverbed.  The river, elevated above the hard-pack ground on beams and stilts, flowed along a smooth and perfectly flat surface constructed of hardwood laminates with sturdy railings at each side—a kind of monstrous flume.  I found myself on a stretch of this river as the water dropped through a series of slight inclines and transitions amid an industrial complex of some sort.  The river’s construction reminded me of a roller-coaster except for the sharp, angular (M. C. Escher) turns and transitions. 

I did not know the name of this river, though, intuitively, I knew that I had a job to do.  My job was to bring fish back to this river.  More specifically, I needed to line the absurdly smooth riverbed with rocks so that fish might take to it.  Soon enough, I found myself wading out into the clear water, which reached up to my knees.  Standing there at the center of the gym-floored river, I began to direct cranes as they boomed in clam-shell buckets of yellow, grey, and pink stones and carefully deposited the rocks in water all around me.  As I swung around to direct a new crane to fill-in a bare spot in the river, I realized that grandstands had been constructed along one transition in the river.  People were watching me work.  Although the bleachers were not completely filled with people, those folks in attendance observed progress with keen interest.  The cranes squeaked and squealed as they swung in and out over the river.  And soon the river began to sound like a river as riffles appeared where the stones lined the bottom at my direction.  People ate popcorn and drank from tall plastic cups as they watched.

At once, I awakened to silence.

Now only a river of silence and darkness around me.  All else gone.  Without a sound, I felt I might drown.  And then Roxie, my small girl-cat, appeared in the bedding near my face.  Purring loudly, she nuzzled against my cheek.  I reached out and massaged her head, which, on the inside, felt firm and blunted and shaped like an apple, but on the outside felt warm and soft. 

A new day.

Out of the river and into the warm and soft of a new day.

--Mitchell Hegman