I recently dreamed about windmills. I walked up the rise of a grassy hill. Although the sky was a swath of deep blue velvet with scattered twinkling sequins, the land was lit with an ethereal blue-white glow of the Full Moon. The earth sparkled with diamond dewdrops.
As I topped the rise, an expanse of mostly flat land lay before me. A river ran from the northeast to southwest, its banks lost from sight below low, chiseled cliffs. I caught glimpses of white-capped waves swirling along the line of cliffs.
The land was dotted with windmills of all ilk:
Old World brick buildings
They took a significant amount of space on the wide plain. Their large blades churned methodically, rhythmically, visible only as the large crossbeams slipped through the dark air. Their varieties were plentiful, amazingly beautiful across the land.
Midwest/Great Plains farm/ranch towers
These towers were most familiar to me. I spent my youth in the North Central states and saw them dotted across fields with dairy cattle gathering near their bases. Memories of that youth flooded through me as I watched the rotors blur in the moonlight.
new wind power generators
These triple-bladed giants towered over the other windmills across the open space. Their mobile white blades taking on the appearance of tilting praying mantis heads and upper appendages in the flashing dark-and-light.
As I watched, the wind strengthened, pouring forth with great gusto, until all the blades of all the windmills became a blur of intermittent light. I recognized this burst: the Winds of Change. This is a year of Change. News from across the world echoes that notion. My dream insistently prodded me to form the Distant Past, the Recent Past and the Present into a Windmill of Change to power me into the future.
What changes are blowing through your life now? Are you building walls? or windmills? Why have you made that choice? Do you experience one choice as more valid than another?
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