Through Darkness into Light
I’ve been Dreaming
I awoke from a vivid dream that began with my escape from a burning building. I’m aware that I had dreamt of the events that led to that point. All of us cycle through the different levels of sleep during the night and dream several times, but it’s the dream state that precedes waking that we usually recall. All I can remember of the dream that preceded this last one was that I had been one of the people fighting inside the burning building. Some sort of gang fight had broken out amongst the people working there, and the building had caught fire as a result. It was an old three story commercial building with a wide brick façade that extended to my right all the way to the end of the block. Before me was an entrance with mock columns surmounted by an arch with a decorative keystone. Firelight coming from one of the hallways lit up the lobby, which was visible through windows set in the large wooden double doors. Orange and red flames with gusts of sparks were shooting up into a pitch black sky out of many of the windows regularly spaced along all three floors. The fire was beyond control. The building was sure to be destroyed. It astonished me that above the roar, I could still hear angry shouting and gunfire coming from inside.
It was night time, and the fire was the only illumination. Behind me and to my left were the ruins of a row housing complex that was becoming overgrown. Herbs, young shrubs and saplings were beginning to pry and heave the pavement and masonry. At the end of a wide straight road to my right was another building similar to the one that was on fire but undamaged. Depressed by the futility of putting out the fire or of saving the any of the people inside, I turned away and walked toward a narrow lane littered with debris that meandered its way through the dilapidated houses. As I rounded the first corner I came upon a crude cage made of sticks tied together. Inside was a wolf, fretting, because the cage was so small that it could hardly move, and because the light and noise of the fire and the fighting were close by. Approaching warily, I unfastened the door and quickly stepped back. The wolf nosed the door open but rather than bolting, casually trotted out. As I continued down the lane, the wolf kept pace with me, ranging ahead and to either side, pausing to have a thorough sniff whenever it found something of interest.
Some of the roofs of the row houses had collapsed. Their style had been rustic Mediterranean. Their masonry walls were still mostly intact though crumbling. A few windows were still glazed, though many of those were broken. Some of their forecourts still had the weathered remains of wooden fences. Everywhere, vegetation was reclaiming what had once been a comfortable neighborhood. Creepers clutched at the masonry. Grasses and forbs sprouted from cracks in the pavement. Thickets of saplings and shrubs grew in the yards. After the wolf and I had gone a couple of blocks, the firelight from behind me had been replaced by moonlight shining over the tops of the ruins to my left. About then, the wolf stopped in front of a weathered wooden gate set in the doorway of a small addition to one of the houses. The wolf got my attention by staring directly at me over its shoulder. One wall of the addition was flush with the curb. It still had its roof, though the house did not. In the moonlight, the roof tiles, tufted with seedlings, seemed the colour of dark chocolate, while the cracked stucco gleamed silvery white. Something was moving inside. When I looked over the top of the gate, it was too dark in there to see anything, but when I opened it, another wolf trotted out. When I resumed my journey, the second wolf began ranging ahead and from side to side just like the first. I wondered at this. Wild animals normally run from people.
Rather that continuing to walk down the middle of the lane as I had before, I began to wander, investigating the ruins on either side. Hearing a scratching noise coming from a basement window, I opened it. Another wolf jumped out and joined the other two in the lane. Continuing my search of these overgrown structures, I found and released one wolf after another. Somehow they had become trapped inside these abandoned buildings. This went on until the pack that surrounded me had grown to about a dozen animals. By then I had reached the edge of the ruins, where the lane continued on as a broad straight road under the arching limbs of a boulevard of towering elm trees. The ruins to my left had opened out into a small park. It was square with a fountain in the middle and had a light grey flagstone walkway that went completely around its perimeter. The fountain was about chest high and was shaped like a shallow fluted chalice. It seemed to be made of concrete and had developed a dark grey and green patina. It was set it a circular pond contained by a masonry bench faced with the same flagstone as the walkway. Moonlight glinted off ripples in the fountain and the pond, and the water flowed gently over the brim in slender sparkling streams. The sounds of their soft pattering combined and carried to the laneway. The wild vegetation ended abruptly at the outer edge of the surrounding walkway. Inside, the park was covered with a lawn. The turf was level, thick and uniformly green. This little park was well cared for. After traveling through all that decay, this was a pleasant surprise.
The wolves stopped their ranging and gathered on the lawn surrounding the fountain. Some of them began to play, wagging their tails, growling and barking as they tussled. The rest were content to either confidently or cautiously make the rounds of greeting and sniffing each other. I began to feel more cheerful myself. After the playfulness died down, small groups of them started wandering off together down other lanes that led away into the ruins. I worried that they might become trapped again, but it seemed pointless to chase after them, because the smaller groups were heading off in their own different directions. I felt that it was time for me to continue my own journey as well.
The moonlight could not penetrate the canopy of the elms, and the road ahead of me was darker than the laneway through the ruins had been. Their trunks and branches formed what seemed like a gateway into darkness. I felt a little anxious as I walked into their shadows. Then I noticed that two of the wolves had followed me and had resumed their ranging. I continued walking hesitantly, until my eyes adjusted to the gloom well enough to discern shafts of moonlight filtering through the leaves. The faint dappled light was enough to hint at the moving shapes of the wolves and the direction of the road. Even so, I was relying more one the feeling of the ground beneath my feet and the touch of the shrubbery to avoid going astray. I could also hear the two wolves as they trotted back and forth in front of me and could tell by the sound of their footsteps whether they were on the road or not. I turned around to look back at the moonlit park and ruins with the red glow of the fire beyond, and wondered if taking this path had been a mistake. Was I just going to get myself lost? Just then, a chorus of wolves began howling somewhere off in the ruins. I heard my two companions stop to listen. Then they took up the same eerie song. In such close proximity, their singing was far more piercing. I could feel it resonating in my stomach and chest as goose bumps crawled up my spine and onto my neck and shoulders. Rather than feeling frightened, I felt exhilarated. I began to feel a sense of wonder and adventure. After my friends had finished their song, I turned around again and pressed forward. Although this was the darkest part of my journey, I knew that sooner or later I would reemerge into the light.
I’m now awake.
I awoke from a vivid dream that began with my escape from a burning building. I’m aware that I had dreamt of the events that led to that point. All of us cycle through the different levels of sleep during the night and dream several times, but it’s the dream state that precedes waking that we usually recall. All I can remember of the dream that preceded this last one was that I had been one of the people fighting inside the burning building. Some sort of gang fight had broken out amongst the people working there, and the building had caught fire as a result. It was an old three story commercial building with a wide brick façade that extended to my right all the way to the end of the block. Before me was an entrance with mock columns surmounted by an arch with a decorative keystone. Firelight coming from one of the hallways lit up the lobby, which was visible through windows set in the large wooden double doors. Orange and red flames with gusts of sparks were shooting up into a pitch black sky out of many of the windows regularly spaced along all three floors. The fire was beyond control. The building was sure to be destroyed. It astonished me that above the roar, I could still hear angry shouting and gunfire coming from inside.
It was night time, and the fire was the only illumination. Behind me and to my left were the ruins of a row housing complex that was becoming overgrown. Herbs, young shrubs and saplings were beginning to pry and heave the pavement and masonry. At the end of a wide straight road to my right was another building similar to the one that was on fire but undamaged. Depressed by the futility of putting out the fire or of saving the any of the people inside, I turned away and walked toward a narrow lane littered with debris that meandered its way through the dilapidated houses. As I rounded the first corner I came upon a crude cage made of sticks tied together. Inside was a wolf, fretting, because the cage was so small that it could hardly move, and because the light and noise of the fire and the fighting were close by. Approaching warily, I unfastened the door and quickly stepped back. The wolf nosed the door open but rather than bolting, casually trotted out. As I continued down the lane, the wolf kept pace with me, ranging ahead and to either side, pausing to have a thorough sniff whenever it found something of interest.
Some of the roofs of the row houses had collapsed. Their style had been rustic Mediterranean. Their masonry walls were still mostly intact though crumbling. A few windows were still glazed, though many of those were broken. Some of their forecourts still had the weathered remains of wooden fences. Everywhere, vegetation was reclaiming what had once been a comfortable neighborhood. Creepers clutched at the masonry. Grasses and forbs sprouted from cracks in the pavement. Thickets of saplings and shrubs grew in the yards. After the wolf and I had gone a couple of blocks, the firelight from behind me had been replaced by moonlight shining over the tops of the ruins to my left. About then, the wolf stopped in front of a weathered wooden gate set in the doorway of a small addition to one of the houses. The wolf got my attention by staring directly at me over its shoulder. One wall of the addition was flush with the curb. It still had its roof, though the house did not. In the moonlight, the roof tiles, tufted with seedlings, seemed the colour of dark chocolate, while the cracked stucco gleamed silvery white. Something was moving inside. When I looked over the top of the gate, it was too dark in there to see anything, but when I opened it, another wolf trotted out. When I resumed my journey, the second wolf began ranging ahead and from side to side just like the first. I wondered at this. Wild animals normally run from people.
Rather that continuing to walk down the middle of the lane as I had before, I began to wander, investigating the ruins on either side. Hearing a scratching noise coming from a basement window, I opened it. Another wolf jumped out and joined the other two in the lane. Continuing my search of these overgrown structures, I found and released one wolf after another. Somehow they had become trapped inside these abandoned buildings. This went on until the pack that surrounded me had grown to about a dozen animals. By then I had reached the edge of the ruins, where the lane continued on as a broad straight road under the arching limbs of a boulevard of towering elm trees. The ruins to my left had opened out into a small park. It was square with a fountain in the middle and had a light grey flagstone walkway that went completely around its perimeter. The fountain was about chest high and was shaped like a shallow fluted chalice. It seemed to be made of concrete and had developed a dark grey and green patina. It was set it a circular pond contained by a masonry bench faced with the same flagstone as the walkway. Moonlight glinted off ripples in the fountain and the pond, and the water flowed gently over the brim in slender sparkling streams. The sounds of their soft pattering combined and carried to the laneway. The wild vegetation ended abruptly at the outer edge of the surrounding walkway. Inside, the park was covered with a lawn. The turf was level, thick and uniformly green. This little park was well cared for. After traveling through all that decay, this was a pleasant surprise.
The wolves stopped their ranging and gathered on the lawn surrounding the fountain. Some of them began to play, wagging their tails, growling and barking as they tussled. The rest were content to either confidently or cautiously make the rounds of greeting and sniffing each other. I began to feel more cheerful myself. After the playfulness died down, small groups of them started wandering off together down other lanes that led away into the ruins. I worried that they might become trapped again, but it seemed pointless to chase after them, because the smaller groups were heading off in their own different directions. I felt that it was time for me to continue my own journey as well.
The moonlight could not penetrate the canopy of the elms, and the road ahead of me was darker than the laneway through the ruins had been. Their trunks and branches formed what seemed like a gateway into darkness. I felt a little anxious as I walked into their shadows. Then I noticed that two of the wolves had followed me and had resumed their ranging. I continued walking hesitantly, until my eyes adjusted to the gloom well enough to discern shafts of moonlight filtering through the leaves. The faint dappled light was enough to hint at the moving shapes of the wolves and the direction of the road. Even so, I was relying more one the feeling of the ground beneath my feet and the touch of the shrubbery to avoid going astray. I could also hear the two wolves as they trotted back and forth in front of me and could tell by the sound of their footsteps whether they were on the road or not. I turned around to look back at the moonlit park and ruins with the red glow of the fire beyond, and wondered if taking this path had been a mistake. Was I just going to get myself lost? Just then, a chorus of wolves began howling somewhere off in the ruins. I heard my two companions stop to listen. Then they took up the same eerie song. In such close proximity, their singing was far more piercing. I could feel it resonating in my stomach and chest as goose bumps crawled up my spine and onto my neck and shoulders. Rather than feeling frightened, I felt exhilarated. I began to feel a sense of wonder and adventure. After my friends had finished their song, I turned around again and pressed forward. Although this was the darkest part of my journey, I knew that sooner or later I would reemerge into the light.
I’m now awake.