I had a strange dream last night. I dreamt I was somewhere in the Southwest, maybe Arizona or New Mexico. I was at a trading post run by two Native Americans; you know, the tourist trap type who sell “authentic Native American treasures,” most of which were recently made. At least, that’s what I thought of it at first.
While I was there, the two men went outside and started staring at a butte off in the distance. I walked up behind them and said, “There’s something coming this way.”
The younger man turned to me, as the older man nodded and said, “There is something coming. What do you feel?” At first, I thought he was talking to the younger man, who was his son. I don’t know how I knew that, but I did. Then I realized he was talking to me.
“I feel it on the wind, Grandfather.” I said. I was puzzled as to why I called this man “grandfather.” We were not relations.
Grandfather nodded sagely, as if I had told him something he long suspected. “There in the wind is what you seek. Do you feel it?” He asked. I felt something, though I cannot identify what I felt. I can only describe it as a vibration of some sort.
He turned towards me and I noticed he had a shimmer about his face which strongly resembled an eagle. It was as if the image of an eagle were superimposed over his face.
“Fly to it Son of the Wind. It calls to you.”
I woke up after that.