Rumors of the demise of this blog have been greatly exaggerated.
Although it is true that I have not posted anything here in quite some time.
Tuesday, April 16, 2024
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Dream: SATOR Square
I mentioned on a friend's 'blog the other day that I had a dream on Saturday night that involved the need to make sure that a SATOR Square was complete and in the correct order. Several people in my dream were involved in working it out, not just me.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons.
Let's start with what a "SATOR Square" is. In the simplest description, it's a "magic square" of letters, with the same letters across and down. It's also palindromic: If you read it backwards and bottom up, you would get the same words as forwards from top down: "SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS" (assuming "AREPO" is a given name, suggested translations at Wikipedia are 'The sower Arepo holds the wheels with effort' and 'The sower Arepo leads with his hand (work) the plough (wheels).')
The SATOR Square looks like this:
SATOR
AREPO
TENET
OPERA
ROTAS
There is also a version of it, appearing in several locations, where the word order is reversed (and is sometimes referred to as a "ROTAS Square"):
ROTAS
OPERA
TENET
AREPO
SATOR
The earliest SATOR square was found either near Herculaneum or in Pompeii (different sources give different locations), both of which were destroyed by an eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD, but others have been found in Europe (some as SATOR Squares, some as ROTAS Squares). There is some disagreement about exactly what the SATOR Square signifies, with many theories saying that it is christian in origin, and some saying that it is mithraic in origin.
What makes this interesting to me is a couple of things.
There's an online comic called SPQR Blues, set in the area of Pompeii and Herculaneum shortly before the eruption of Vesuvius. In the story, during a visit to someone's relative, you can clearly see a stela with the SATOR Square carved on it, although you wouldn't know the significance of it if you didn't already know about it. I remember remarking on it to my wife at the time.
Also, my wife and I are currently reading a book titled "Pompeii" by Robert Harris (which is interesting in its own right, because I knew a Robert Harris when I was growing up). The SATOR Square is not (at least, not so far at the point we're reading) mentioned in that book, but since it's current reading, it adds to keeping Pompeii and Herculaneum in my mind.
Until that dream, I had no idea that I had even held on to the actual layout of a SATOR Square, even if part of the dream involved puzzling out how it was supposed to be laid out. I know that memory and the subconscious can hold many things that may lie buried, but it's rare for me to be able to consciously access them, even in a dream -- my mind doesn't usually work that way.
Other parts of the dream were quite fuzzy by the time that I woke up, because solving the layout of the SATOR Square took up most of my attention in the dream by the time that I was close to waking. It was definitely an "active" dream, because I was working on setting the order in the dream (even though it was a group effort), rather than having the dream just happen.
After I awoke, I lay in bed, continuing to recite the order of the square in my head, setting it so that I wouldn't lose the conscious recollection of the layout. When I was able to look it up later, I found that the order was, indeed, correct.
I could speculate on mystic significance of dreaming about the SATOR Square (since the SATOR Square is believed by some to have mystic significance in and of itself).
But even without mystic significance, it was an interesting experience. I don't recall ever having a dream quite like that before.
It was an interesting occurrence for several reasons.
Let's start with what a "SATOR Square" is. In the simplest description, it's a "magic square" of letters, with the same letters across and down. It's also palindromic: If you read it backwards and bottom up, you would get the same words as forwards from top down: "SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS" (assuming "AREPO" is a given name, suggested translations at Wikipedia are 'The sower Arepo holds the wheels with effort' and 'The sower Arepo leads with his hand (work) the plough (wheels).')
The SATOR Square looks like this:
SATOR
AREPO
TENET
OPERA
ROTAS
There is also a version of it, appearing in several locations, where the word order is reversed (and is sometimes referred to as a "ROTAS Square"):
ROTAS
OPERA
TENET
AREPO
SATOR
The earliest SATOR square was found either near Herculaneum or in Pompeii (different sources give different locations), both of which were destroyed by an eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 AD, but others have been found in Europe (some as SATOR Squares, some as ROTAS Squares). There is some disagreement about exactly what the SATOR Square signifies, with many theories saying that it is christian in origin, and some saying that it is mithraic in origin.
What makes this interesting to me is a couple of things.
There's an online comic called SPQR Blues, set in the area of Pompeii and Herculaneum shortly before the eruption of Vesuvius. In the story, during a visit to someone's relative, you can clearly see a stela with the SATOR Square carved on it, although you wouldn't know the significance of it if you didn't already know about it. I remember remarking on it to my wife at the time.
Also, my wife and I are currently reading a book titled "Pompeii" by Robert Harris (which is interesting in its own right, because I knew a Robert Harris when I was growing up). The SATOR Square is not (at least, not so far at the point we're reading) mentioned in that book, but since it's current reading, it adds to keeping Pompeii and Herculaneum in my mind.
Until that dream, I had no idea that I had even held on to the actual layout of a SATOR Square, even if part of the dream involved puzzling out how it was supposed to be laid out. I know that memory and the subconscious can hold many things that may lie buried, but it's rare for me to be able to consciously access them, even in a dream -- my mind doesn't usually work that way.
Other parts of the dream were quite fuzzy by the time that I woke up, because solving the layout of the SATOR Square took up most of my attention in the dream by the time that I was close to waking. It was definitely an "active" dream, because I was working on setting the order in the dream (even though it was a group effort), rather than having the dream just happen.
After I awoke, I lay in bed, continuing to recite the order of the square in my head, setting it so that I wouldn't lose the conscious recollection of the layout. When I was able to look it up later, I found that the order was, indeed, correct.
I could speculate on mystic significance of dreaming about the SATOR Square (since the SATOR Square is believed by some to have mystic significance in and of itself).
But even without mystic significance, it was an interesting experience. I don't recall ever having a dream quite like that before.
Monday, December 29, 2008
On the nature of time: Cycles
Well, so far I haven't been doing a very good job of making regular posts in this blog (or in my other blog on LiveJournal, for that matter). I intend to get back to writing regularly on the topic soon.
As part of that resolution ;-), I offer the following observations.
My wife, Shadowfoot, was reading a post to me yesterday about a circular calendar that someone was using to help in planning. Rather than using the block calendar so typical in Western cultures currently, with one row for each week and one page for each month, the poster was thinking of using a circular calendar, so that all of the dates were clearly visible, and he could get a better idea of how long it was going to take for something to be completed (such as planting to harvest) by seeing how much of an arc the event would take; for example, you could quickly see that 90 days would take approximately a quarter of a year, or that 120 days would take approximately one third of a year.
The examples above may seem fairly obvious, but you could also see quickly if your planting schedule would cause your harvest time to be staggered or all fall on about the same date.
You can do this with the block calendar, of course, but it may involve some complicated arithmetic, depending on the nature of the planning, but the visualization of thinking of a circle for the year can help you get a grasp on what that arithmetic means.
It occurred to me that I often visualize a year that way, like a giant clock with the Winter Solstice or New Year at the 12:00 position (depending on context). Further reflection revealed to me that I do not think of calendar months that way, although I do think of the phases of the moon that way.
Our Grove gathered for a little holiday socializing yesterday, and since we are a "teaching grove", we typically get into some interesting subjects of discussion even when we aren't having an "official" meeting. One of the topics that came up (I may have been the person who brought it up) was the Mayan calendar.
Anyone who has seen the Mayan calendar knows that it is a circular calendar.
Since I've been doing research on calendars used by various cultures, both past and present (and some speculative calendars for the future), I was past time for looking at this calendar. Without going into the significance of the Mayan calendar's end of the Long Count (Winter Solstice 2012), there were two particular points in the calendar that I was not expecting.
First of all, the Mayan calendar is not a lunar calendar. It does not follow the cycles of the lunar phases, although it might mark those phases.
Second, the Mayan calendar is not a true solar calendar, either, although one (!) of the definitions of "year" that is used is 365 days long (the other is 260 days long). There is no adjustment of that year over time, so the equivalent "new year" under that system falls behind the actual astronomical event by about a day every four years.
I was not expecting either of those points.
The Mayans were accomplished astronomers. They knew quite well that the fixed, 365 day year wasn't exact, that particular solar events would fall on different dates over the years. However, rather than make periodic adjustments to the length of the year (e.g. using leap days as in the Gregorian calendar), they accounted for it by knowing how many iterations of the calendar it would take before a particular solar event (such as the Winter Solstice) occurred on the same date in that calendar.
Timekeeping in general has to keep in mind two major components: cycles and forward progression. The cycles help us to know when something is likely to repeat, and the progression helps us know when discrete events have happened or when they will happen.
The hours of the day are cyclic in nature: there's a beginning, middle, and end, and then it starts over again for the next day. Daylight follows night time, and night time follows daylight, over and over. We record the progression of days by counting how many times this cycle occurs, usually picking some point as the beginning/ending of the day (typically midnight in modern Western cultures, sundown in several historical Western cultures as well as several Middle Eastern cultures).
The same can be said for lunations: new moon, first quarter, full moon, last quarter, and new moon again, to use the way that the phases of the moon are recorded on modern Western calendars. Again, we count the progression of lunations to record their progression, picking some point in the cycle (typically new moon or first quarter) as the zero point.
The solar year also follows that pattern: Vernal Equinox, Summer Solstice, Autumnal Equinox, Winter Solstice, and then back to Vernal Equinox again. We pick a [somewhat arbitrary] point in the cycle of the year as "New Year", and count how many times that event has passed (we also use our own birth date for marking the repeats of the solar year, or a date of marriage).
We use these cycles and their progressions, numbering or naming them, to record when things happened or predict/schedule when they will happen. We can predict when a crop is likely to be ready to be harvested by the date that we plant, and we can schedule that planting according to when they will likely need to be harvested.
We know when we need to get certain farm equipment out of storage and checked over, because we have an idea of when we are going to need it to be ready to work.
We know how old the chickens need to be before they will start producing eggs that we can use or sell, and how old they will be when they are likely to stop producing, so we can schedule when we need to get replacement chickens.
We know when we're supposed to be at work, so we have a decent idea of when we should get up in the morning in order to be able to get ready and travel to the work site (if you're a farmer, the farm is the general work site, but you may need to travel to different parts of the farm -- I need to go up onto one of the hillsides today or tomorrow to clear some fallen tree branches before the next snows). We also have a good idea of what time we should be getting to sleep the previous evening, so that we can be sufficiently rested when we wake in the morning.
And the next day, we get up and do it all over again.
Each day is unique for what happens during that day, but the cyclic nature of the day gives us an idea of what to expect for certain things.
Happy New Year! May the progressive nature of the year cycles make it better for you than last year.
As part of that resolution ;-), I offer the following observations.
My wife, Shadowfoot, was reading a post to me yesterday about a circular calendar that someone was using to help in planning. Rather than using the block calendar so typical in Western cultures currently, with one row for each week and one page for each month, the poster was thinking of using a circular calendar, so that all of the dates were clearly visible, and he could get a better idea of how long it was going to take for something to be completed (such as planting to harvest) by seeing how much of an arc the event would take; for example, you could quickly see that 90 days would take approximately a quarter of a year, or that 120 days would take approximately one third of a year.
The examples above may seem fairly obvious, but you could also see quickly if your planting schedule would cause your harvest time to be staggered or all fall on about the same date.
You can do this with the block calendar, of course, but it may involve some complicated arithmetic, depending on the nature of the planning, but the visualization of thinking of a circle for the year can help you get a grasp on what that arithmetic means.
It occurred to me that I often visualize a year that way, like a giant clock with the Winter Solstice or New Year at the 12:00 position (depending on context). Further reflection revealed to me that I do not think of calendar months that way, although I do think of the phases of the moon that way.
Our Grove gathered for a little holiday socializing yesterday, and since we are a "teaching grove", we typically get into some interesting subjects of discussion even when we aren't having an "official" meeting. One of the topics that came up (I may have been the person who brought it up) was the Mayan calendar.
Anyone who has seen the Mayan calendar knows that it is a circular calendar.
Since I've been doing research on calendars used by various cultures, both past and present (and some speculative calendars for the future), I was past time for looking at this calendar. Without going into the significance of the Mayan calendar's end of the Long Count (Winter Solstice 2012), there were two particular points in the calendar that I was not expecting.
First of all, the Mayan calendar is not a lunar calendar. It does not follow the cycles of the lunar phases, although it might mark those phases.
Second, the Mayan calendar is not a true solar calendar, either, although one (!) of the definitions of "year" that is used is 365 days long (the other is 260 days long). There is no adjustment of that year over time, so the equivalent "new year" under that system falls behind the actual astronomical event by about a day every four years.
I was not expecting either of those points.
The Mayans were accomplished astronomers. They knew quite well that the fixed, 365 day year wasn't exact, that particular solar events would fall on different dates over the years. However, rather than make periodic adjustments to the length of the year (e.g. using leap days as in the Gregorian calendar), they accounted for it by knowing how many iterations of the calendar it would take before a particular solar event (such as the Winter Solstice) occurred on the same date in that calendar.
Timekeeping in general has to keep in mind two major components: cycles and forward progression. The cycles help us to know when something is likely to repeat, and the progression helps us know when discrete events have happened or when they will happen.
The hours of the day are cyclic in nature: there's a beginning, middle, and end, and then it starts over again for the next day. Daylight follows night time, and night time follows daylight, over and over. We record the progression of days by counting how many times this cycle occurs, usually picking some point as the beginning/ending of the day (typically midnight in modern Western cultures, sundown in several historical Western cultures as well as several Middle Eastern cultures).
The same can be said for lunations: new moon, first quarter, full moon, last quarter, and new moon again, to use the way that the phases of the moon are recorded on modern Western calendars. Again, we count the progression of lunations to record their progression, picking some point in the cycle (typically new moon or first quarter) as the zero point.
The solar year also follows that pattern: Vernal Equinox, Summer Solstice, Autumnal Equinox, Winter Solstice, and then back to Vernal Equinox again. We pick a [somewhat arbitrary] point in the cycle of the year as "New Year", and count how many times that event has passed (we also use our own birth date for marking the repeats of the solar year, or a date of marriage).
We use these cycles and their progressions, numbering or naming them, to record when things happened or predict/schedule when they will happen. We can predict when a crop is likely to be ready to be harvested by the date that we plant, and we can schedule that planting according to when they will likely need to be harvested.
We know when we need to get certain farm equipment out of storage and checked over, because we have an idea of when we are going to need it to be ready to work.
We know how old the chickens need to be before they will start producing eggs that we can use or sell, and how old they will be when they are likely to stop producing, so we can schedule when we need to get replacement chickens.
We know when we're supposed to be at work, so we have a decent idea of when we should get up in the morning in order to be able to get ready and travel to the work site (if you're a farmer, the farm is the general work site, but you may need to travel to different parts of the farm -- I need to go up onto one of the hillsides today or tomorrow to clear some fallen tree branches before the next snows). We also have a good idea of what time we should be getting to sleep the previous evening, so that we can be sufficiently rested when we wake in the morning.
And the next day, we get up and do it all over again.
Each day is unique for what happens during that day, but the cyclic nature of the day gives us an idea of what to expect for certain things.
Happy New Year! May the progressive nature of the year cycles make it better for you than last year.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Fragments
Some of my dreams lately have been more of the action/adventure type. Not all, but a sizable fraction.
Of one of the dreams from last night, I have only fragments. The item that most sticks in my mind was a bridge: A very old metal moon bridge, very large, obviously only intended as a foot bridge (being the nature of moon bridges). Our team was crossing this bridge in a hurry, at least partly because the bridge was collapsing under us as we went. If we didn't cross that bridge before the collapse was complete, we would never whatever it was that the bridge spanned (it was night, and I didn't get a good look at what was underneath the bridge). We had to step quickly, but we had to step only in the right places to keep from falling through -- my job was to be first, and find those places to step.
I remember thinking as I crossed the bridge that there was someone in a following team that we were going to need, but she wasn't going to reach the bridge that we were on before it collapsed. I also remember not being concerned about it -- the lack of a bridge would not prevent her from crossing.
Our team wasn't there to secure the bridge -- our job was to find the right place for the next team to work once they arrived.
I don't know what the next team was supposed to do...
Of one of the dreams from last night, I have only fragments. The item that most sticks in my mind was a bridge: A very old metal moon bridge, very large, obviously only intended as a foot bridge (being the nature of moon bridges). Our team was crossing this bridge in a hurry, at least partly because the bridge was collapsing under us as we went. If we didn't cross that bridge before the collapse was complete, we would never whatever it was that the bridge spanned (it was night, and I didn't get a good look at what was underneath the bridge). We had to step quickly, but we had to step only in the right places to keep from falling through -- my job was to be first, and find those places to step.
I remember thinking as I crossed the bridge that there was someone in a following team that we were going to need, but she wasn't going to reach the bridge that we were on before it collapsed. I also remember not being concerned about it -- the lack of a bridge would not prevent her from crossing.
Our team wasn't there to secure the bridge -- our job was to find the right place for the next team to work once they arrived.
I don't know what the next team was supposed to do...
Friday, October 17, 2008
Mother Nature Always Bats Last
Thomas Friedman writes Op-Ed commentary for the New York Times, and his column is occasionally carried by our local newspaper.
On Tuesday, Oct 14, 2008, a column that he wrote on the financial markets drew an analogy with Mother Nature, and I was truly fascinated by what he wrote at the start of his column:
I have since found that neither Rob Watson nor Thomas Friedman coined the phrase
Indeed, Mother Nature always bats last, and she always bats a thousand.
On Tuesday, Oct 14, 2008, a column that he wrote on the financial markets drew an analogy with Mother Nature, and I was truly fascinated by what he wrote at the start of his column:
My friend Rob Watson, the head of EcoTech International, has a saying Mother Nature that goes like this:Mother Nature is just chemistry, biology and physics. That's all she is.And because of that, says Rob, you cannot spin Mother Nature. You cannot sweet talk her, and you cannot ignore her. She's going to do with the climate whatever chemistry, biology and physics dictate. And Mother Nature always bats last, and she always bats a thousand.
I have since found that neither Rob Watson nor Thomas Friedman coined the phrase
Mother Nature bats last; that phrase can be traced to bumper stickers for the ecology movements such as Earth First!, and [probably] to ecologist Paul Ehrlich. Some of the appearances of the phrase add the note that
Nature is the home team.
Indeed, Mother Nature always bats last, and she always bats a thousand.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Y Naddwr (The Whittler)
The Whittler wields the small blade and the large, removing little chips of wood. The smell of the wood is in the air, released by the small cuts and the large. Each stroke of the blades caresses the piece, teasing out that which is hidden within, that which was always there, waiting to be revealed. Slowly, slowly, the form emerges from formlessness.
Care must be taken, for the grain of the wood will draw the blade. The block may have small cracks that could become larger ones. The Whittler works with these, following the grain, protecting the cracks, working with the character of the block.
Sometimes, the Whittler does not know what will emerge as he works. He listens to the wood, tests it, feels it, learns where the strengths and weaknesses of the piece are, finds within it a thing of beauty, or a puzzle, or a child's toy.
Haste carries risk; a slip of the blade may remove some vital piece, or split the work. The Whittler must judge when to hurry, when to move with slow deliberation, what places to use utmost care. He must learn when to use the small blade or the large, when to take little cuts and when to slice broad strokes.
The Whittler chooses the wood, but the wood also chooses the Whittler. The two work together, one shaping the other, the second inspiring the first. They are one, both making the effort, the Whittler in the sweat on his arms and brow, the callouses on his hands, the wood with each tiny chip removed, each sliver cut away. What is removed tells as much as what remains.
On occasion, other tools may be used in the process. A saw may cut a piece from a large piece. A froe may split the wood, following and revealing the grain.
Chisels may be used to rough out the shape of the final piece. A drill for making a hole, perhaps for a musical instrument, perhaps to hang a medallion around the neck. Or the Whittler may opt for just the blades, the small blade and the large, to take that block of wood, and, step by step, little cut by little cut, work the piece into the shape that calls to him.
Studying druidry and its associated topics, following the path and the Paths, reviewing the Spirals and expanding on them, is, in some ways, akin to whittling. The Seeker is initially like that block of wood, with form hidden within. Gentle strokes of the blade of knowledge, following the grain of the Seeker's spirit, slowly reveal the potential within.
The Seeker is also the Whittler, studying how to apply that knowledge, how to bring that shape out from deep within, how to use the shape and knowledge that is already there, how to enhance it. The Seeker must know himself the way the Whittler knows the block of wood. He must learn the grain of his soul, the cracks within, the hidden knowledge that has been there all along.
When he is done, when the sweat of his hands has polished the work to a bright shine, when he lays down his tools for a time to admire his work, to see what has been revealed, what was hiding within him, he can be proud of what he has accomplished.
And then the Whittler begins again.
Care must be taken, for the grain of the wood will draw the blade. The block may have small cracks that could become larger ones. The Whittler works with these, following the grain, protecting the cracks, working with the character of the block.
Sometimes, the Whittler does not know what will emerge as he works. He listens to the wood, tests it, feels it, learns where the strengths and weaknesses of the piece are, finds within it a thing of beauty, or a puzzle, or a child's toy.
Haste carries risk; a slip of the blade may remove some vital piece, or split the work. The Whittler must judge when to hurry, when to move with slow deliberation, what places to use utmost care. He must learn when to use the small blade or the large, when to take little cuts and when to slice broad strokes.
The Whittler chooses the wood, but the wood also chooses the Whittler. The two work together, one shaping the other, the second inspiring the first. They are one, both making the effort, the Whittler in the sweat on his arms and brow, the callouses on his hands, the wood with each tiny chip removed, each sliver cut away. What is removed tells as much as what remains.
On occasion, other tools may be used in the process. A saw may cut a piece from a large piece. A froe may split the wood, following and revealing the grain.
Chisels may be used to rough out the shape of the final piece. A drill for making a hole, perhaps for a musical instrument, perhaps to hang a medallion around the neck. Or the Whittler may opt for just the blades, the small blade and the large, to take that block of wood, and, step by step, little cut by little cut, work the piece into the shape that calls to him.
Studying druidry and its associated topics, following the path and the Paths, reviewing the Spirals and expanding on them, is, in some ways, akin to whittling. The Seeker is initially like that block of wood, with form hidden within. Gentle strokes of the blade of knowledge, following the grain of the Seeker's spirit, slowly reveal the potential within.
The Seeker is also the Whittler, studying how to apply that knowledge, how to bring that shape out from deep within, how to use the shape and knowledge that is already there, how to enhance it. The Seeker must know himself the way the Whittler knows the block of wood. He must learn the grain of his soul, the cracks within, the hidden knowledge that has been there all along.
When he is done, when the sweat of his hands has polished the work to a bright shine, when he lays down his tools for a time to admire his work, to see what has been revealed, what was hiding within him, he can be proud of what he has accomplished.
And then the Whittler begins again.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Dreams: Conflicts of various types
A dream, interrupted.
We are in a campground which is heavily wooded. There are gravel roads and worn footpaths. The day is sunny, but the shade under the trees is heavy, with the fully-formed leaves of summer. It is neither particularly hot nor particularly cold, but simply comfortable.
There are two groups of people in the campground, at odds for some unknown reason. This is not the
At one point, as I am traveling alone from another area of the campground back to our encampment along one of the footpaths, I am accosted by a group of men that appear to mean me physical harm. I am severely outnumbered, and I know that if I try to make a stand against them, the results will be heavily against me. I dodge, weave, and evade, more than once managing to free myself from grasping hands that cannot quite hold onto my wrist, my arm, my ankle. I free myself from one assailant by springing off of a small rock, placing my feet against his chest, and kicking off. As I run and turn a corner in the path, I find more of them waiting, but I somehow manage to evade them as well.
Returning to our encampment, I find that the two groups have decided to participate in an archery competition, to try to use friendly sports as a way to reduce the tensions between the two groups.
I am a decent archer in the dream, but not exceptional. I can hunt, but a lot of that is patience and close shooting. I am not sure that I would be able to contribute much to our team, but almost all who are archers (which is almost all of the encampment) are going to participate, so I go into my tent to assemble my archery tackle.
The tent is a modern nylon dome tent, about five feet tall in the center. My archery tackle, however, is
But when I emerge from my tent, the rest of the archers in the encampment have gone. I ask one of the few remaining in the encampment where they have gone, and I am told that they have gone to the competition, which is to be held in the southern section of the campground.
I do not know where that is, or what route to take to get there. Perhaps they saw my hesitation, and decided to go on without me. Perhaps there simply wasn't time to wait for me. In any case, if I still want to participate, I will have to find my way on my own.
At this point, I was awakened by our elder cat's semi-regular early morning howl (which will not stop until someone gets up to go find her, to be actually seen by her), so I arose to find her, calmed her, and then started preparations for my day.
We are in a campground which is heavily wooded. There are gravel roads and worn footpaths. The day is sunny, but the shade under the trees is heavy, with the fully-formed leaves of summer. It is neither particularly hot nor particularly cold, but simply comfortable.
There are two groups of people in the campground, at odds for some unknown reason. This is not the
friendly competitionthat occurs in some places and campgrounds, with two groups that come from different areas for a regular contest. This is an aggressive, in-your-face conflict, with shouting, threats, and occasional fisticuffs.
At one point, as I am traveling alone from another area of the campground back to our encampment along one of the footpaths, I am accosted by a group of men that appear to mean me physical harm. I am severely outnumbered, and I know that if I try to make a stand against them, the results will be heavily against me. I dodge, weave, and evade, more than once managing to free myself from grasping hands that cannot quite hold onto my wrist, my arm, my ankle. I free myself from one assailant by springing off of a small rock, placing my feet against his chest, and kicking off. As I run and turn a corner in the path, I find more of them waiting, but I somehow manage to evade them as well.
Returning to our encampment, I find that the two groups have decided to participate in an archery competition, to try to use friendly sports as a way to reduce the tensions between the two groups.
I am a decent archer in the dream, but not exceptional. I can hunt, but a lot of that is patience and close shooting. I am not sure that I would be able to contribute much to our team, but almost all who are archers (which is almost all of the encampment) are going to participate, so I go into my tent to assemble my archery tackle.
The tent is a modern nylon dome tent, about five feet tall in the center. My archery tackle, however, is
traditional, a D-section longbow, wooden arrows, hip quiver, leather bracer, leather archer's glove. The arrows are not target arrows, but rather have diamond-shaped hunting heads. These are the arrows that I have with me, so these are the arrows that I will use.
But when I emerge from my tent, the rest of the archers in the encampment have gone. I ask one of the few remaining in the encampment where they have gone, and I am told that they have gone to the competition, which is to be held in the southern section of the campground.
I do not know where that is, or what route to take to get there. Perhaps they saw my hesitation, and decided to go on without me. Perhaps there simply wasn't time to wait for me. In any case, if I still want to participate, I will have to find my way on my own.
At this point, I was awakened by our elder cat's semi-regular early morning howl (which will not stop until someone gets up to go find her, to be actually seen by her), so I arose to find her, calmed her, and then started preparations for my day.
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