It rained for the first time the other day. I guess it was four days ago. I hadn't written since the night before the rain. Every last drop was a blessing from above. There is a new smell, like one that comes in a cellophane wrapper in the shape of a Christmas tree, Mountain Rain. The good news was that my roof is decent. Some water got in, but not too much. Also, it was warm. That, mixed with the rain was so refreshing. The bad news, when the wind shifted the rain sideways, it pounded through my walls. The inside of the hut got soaked as if there were no walls at all. Taking advantage of the rain, I mixed up a mud hole. The mud, I used to patch holes in the walls. This took up a lot of my time over the past four days. It's incredible how time consuming that can be. By the time I'd finished mudding my walls, I had a four foot deep hole, two feet in diameter. I've got plans for that.
I've spent a lot of time, after dark, just sitting by the fire, braiding bark. Yesterday morning, I finished my second ten foot rope. I managed to tie up my bed, hanging it from the rafters. I wrapped the ropes around the rafters, hanging about four feet down, two sections at either end. I then tied each to a corner of my bed, and hung it hammock style. It was nice to get off the ground for once.
Last night, I was more comfortable in bed than any night since I got here. Although I don't know where, exactly, here is, I've adapted and realized that, until further notice, here is home. I had another vivid dream last night. Not one that I'm not sure if it was real, but one that has me questioning if it was a memory. It was all so familiar, and I was certainly in the moment.
It was that woman again. The beautiful one with the blue eyes that cared so much. There was a boy, quite a bit older than the one she was nursing the last time. They were out, working in a garden. It was a vegetable garden with rows of carrots, peas, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, onions, peppers, and who knows how many other wonderful looking plants. The were harvesting what was ready. She, with her delicate, but worked, fingers, was picking tomatoes off the vine. He, at only three or four, picking and eating pea pod after pea pod, bush after bush. All of the sudden, the sky darkened. A storm moved in as if triggered by one pea pod being picked. She grabbed the boy, Scotty, I think she called him, grabbed her basket, and ran for the house. She had one hundred yards to cover, and was scrambling frantically to beat the imminent rain. She got about halfway when the skies opened up. It started pouring, and it began hard. By the time she reached the house, the rain had turned to hail, golf ball sized hail. She covered the boy's head to protect him, sacrificing her own well-being, and the freshly picked produce. The wind was picking up, whipping violently through the windows. I notice that I'm watching all of this from a pantry with no windows.
"Stay close, Scotty," she said, lowering him to the floor. "I don't want you near the windows. We need to find a safe place to hide out." She looked panicked.
I saw myself motioning to the boy, calling him towards me. Willingly, he came. Predictable, she chased him, basket in tow. When she was safely in the pantry, the door slammed shut. The wind continued to scream. The hail pounded on the roof and walls. We were safe. Hours passed in seconds, taking the storm with them. When all was quiet, she opened the door. What a beautiful sky. Straight above, it was clear blue, like her eyes. Off in the distance, the storm clouds had dissipated into remarkable whisps of clouds, dancing on the raindrops. There was but one problem with the view, she wasn't supposed to have it. She was standing in her kitchen, except she was standing on earth. She spent minutes marvelling at that fact. Here she was, standing in the middle of a wide open field seeing only her pantry and her garden. Hours earlier, there was a house surrounding the pantry, and a house to the left, and another to the right. Come to think of it, this was a busy street with hundreds of homes, and now, not one. Just a solitary room that I'd called her son to, and she followed, getting locked in in the process.
This was miraculous, without explanation. Fortunately, this was only a dream. It needed no explanation. It must mean something, having multiple dreams about a woman I don't remember. Like the last dream, I awoke wondering if this was a memory. Unlike the last dream, there was no direct communication between her and I. It's been an interesting week or so.
I am at the point where I don't really know what to do with myself. I've got a solid shelter, plenty of food, and a new friend. I go check the traps regularly. There's nothing in them, which is okay, since I'm pretty well stocked for food. I am starting to run a little low, though. On that note, I saw some deer signs the other day. They bed off the broken trail just past the brook. The strength and accuracy it would take to kill one would be remarkable. I'd be better off finding one dead already. Although, is something's going to kill a deer, I'll need to kill that.
I've been toying with the idea of making a bow an arrow again these past few days. The arrows are a simple concept, find a branch, whittle it down to size, make sure it's straight, apply a tip, add feathers. Scooter has been leaving a few floating around lately. I'm certain that I could successfully form a bow, as well. my problem is finding something to make the string with. I've considered using much finer pieces of bark, maybe white birch only. That would be increasingly tedious. I've even considered using some of the goat hair that I still have, but I'm not sure I'd have enough. I wonder if it would work if I could get a few long strings from my clothing. I've got a jacket that I haven't needed yet, and this polo shirt I've been wearing is a little long.
It's always easier to be resourceful when you have extra materials. In this instance, I don't. I may need to sacrifice a comfort that I currently have to get a necessity for survival. The thing that makes this choice difficult is the fact that I don't know where I am, and I don't know what time of year it is. Those two facts in combination make it difficult to judge what kind of clothing I'm going to need. The other thing making me nervous is that I'm not sure how to separate a single strand of string from my clothing, nor do I know if it will work.
It is possible that there are other options for how to capture food. I am clearly not a hunter, though I seem comfortable in the process. I am learning on a curve, gathering information I need when I need it. Who knows, maybe something will fall out of the sky for me today, eliminating my need to search for a new way to hunt. Obviously, I can't count on that happening, so it'll be another day of exploration.
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