Book One

The Dream Catcher's Dream

Chapter Thirty One

Hanging Out with Thunder & Lightning

By the time I arrive in the living room, Jazbell is already there, dressed, ready, and waiting for me.   She’s wearing a two-piece, emerald-green sweat suit and sparkling white jogging shoes.  “You’re speedy,” I say to her.

Jazbell laughs and replies,  “So you see, I do have some redeeming qualities, after all.”

“Yes, one or two, I’d say.”

As we leave through the carport, Jazbell pauses to open her car door and retrieve a small backpack that she must have pre-packed for this occasion.  She says,  “This has water and snacks for us.”

I offer to carry it, but she declines my offer.   Although I don’t know it yet, by the time we reach our destination, I’ll be thankful that she declined my offer.  

As we step clear of the structure, Eric and Frederica are just arriving.   Eric speaks to me, “Ah, Stoney, I see you’re off to watch the storm from the cabin.   You’ll love the view.   It’s truly spectacular.”  

“That’s what Jazbell has told me.”  

Frederica adds, “Are you sure you’re okay with heights?”  

I look to Jazbell with a questioning eye.   She has not mentioned anything about heights.   I stop briefly, turn, and responded to Frederica, “Yes, I’m fine in high places.”

“Then you’ll love the cabin.”

“Thanks for coming to close up the house for us.”

Eric replies, “It’s our pleasure to be of service.”   You’d better get moving.   Jazbell is quite a walker.”   I turn back to question Jazbell about the height issue, but she is already 20 yards up the trail and moving swiftly.

Not to be outdone, I quickly catch up to her and then walk close behind in silence.   Based on the clue from Frederica and what I’ve seen so far today, I think what I’ll find at the end of this path won’t fit my classic definition of a cabin any more than the house we just left.  

The path leads southward in a mild to moderate uphill walk all the way.   Jazbell walks briskly ahead of me.   I intentionally focus on walking lightly and breathing deeply.   We walk through a densely forested area and then up into a grass-covered area with scattered trees and several rock outcroppings. 

This open area is slightly higher than all the surrounding terrain.   About seventy-five yards to my left, the terrain ends abruptly, and I can see the top portion of the vertical canyon wall on the other side of a wide valley.   Directly ahead of me the terrain looks flat and level.   At about two hundred yards it seems to just end.   Beyond that, I see only sky.   To the right the terrain slopes downward slightly for about 300 yards, then rises very gently upward for about another four hundred yards and then ascends rather steeply to another crest, beyond which I cannot see.   After I walk about one hundred and fifty yards into this area, it becomes obvious from the look of the trees, that lightning has blessed this hilltop on more than one occasion.

I stop to admire one of the trees that is particularly beautiful because of the way it has been hit and shattered by the lightning.   One side looks like a normal tree, but the other side has a split from what’s left of the top all the way to the ground.   I pick up a piece of what used to be the tree trunk and marvel at the condition it’s in now.   The wood is still bright and clean.   Judging from its weight, it has not yet even dried out indicating that the strike was quite recent.  

“Come on Stoney, we still have two hundred yards to go.”   I carry the piece of wood with me and follow Jazbell.   The trail leads us close to the edge of a steep drop off.   Jazbell points ahead to what appears to be a glass-covered structure hanging out over the cliff.  “That’s where we’re going,” she says.   

“We are going to be out there on that ledge in the middle of a thunder storm?”  

“That’s right.   We can go back to the house if you want, but we’ll probable get wet before we arrive."

“No, I want to go experience the storm from up here.”   We walk the remaining one hundred yards up along the ridge and then start down a set of steps that have been cut into the stone of the mountain.   The steps lead down about 30 feet to a ledge and what appears to be a cabin growing out of the side of the cliff.   Without the stairs, the ledge and the cabin on it would be inaccessible to all but a skilled rock climber.  

About halfway down Jazbell stops and reaches into a small, inconspicuous opening in the side of the mountain.   She retrieves a key and we proceed downward to our destination.   She inserts the key and twists it slightly.   Withdrawing the key, she gives the door a gentle push, and it silently swings open.   She then turns to me and says, “Stoney, would you put the key back for me, please?”  

“Certainly,” I say.   I am anxious to see what’s inside the cabin so, in spite of my racing heart and heavy breathing from our brisk hike; I scurry up the steps, replace the key, and quickly return.   As I enter, I find Jazbell opening one of the sliding glass windows that cover the entire wall opposite the cliff.   Beneath the windowsill, which is about 40 inches above the floor, a heavy, steel I-beam crosses from one end of the cabin to the other.   The section from floor level to the steel bar is also filled in with glass, so a clear view of the valley floor is available even from where I stand at the entrance door.  

    Above the windows, at ceiling level, another steel bar crosses the cabin.   From that top steel bar, the roof slants upward and back toward the cliff at about fifteen degrees of angle.   The ceiling/roof, for the first four feet, is also glass.  

The first four feet of the sidewall opposite the doorway match my description of the end wall in which Jazbell just opened a window.   Vertical pine boards cover the remaining twenty feet of that sidewall.   The boards are their natural color and are covered with a clear finish.   The portion of the ceiling that’s not glass is covered with a material that I cannot identify without closer examination.   In looking to the rear of the cabin, I see that other than where the walls, floor and roof attach, the back of the cabin is the natural rock of the canyon wall.   On the valley side of the door through which we just entered, a seven-foot section of glass wall matches the end wall that is hanging out into the canyon.   The wall between the door, and the cliff is covered with shelves or closed cabinets.   Close to the door and at eye level is a carefully printed sign that says, “Shoes here please!”   An arrow leads my eyes to a series of cubicles that can hold shoes or boots.  

I close the door, remove my shoes, place them in a cubicle, cross the carpeted floor to the window, and look out at the view.   I feel like I’m floating in the sky.   I place my hand on the windowsill and attempt to shake it.   It barely moves.   Whoever designed this structure didn’t figure in cost as a factor.   The quality of everything I see matches that of the house we just left.   I look more closely at the windows.   The frames are painted sky blue on the inside and slate-gray on the outside.   Looking at where the edges join the window casing, there is no paint.   The frames appear to be made of stainless steel.   Although the glass is thick and heavy, the window rolls easily with just a light touch.  

I lean out and look down.   I’m amazed at the view.   Beneath me, the cliff goes straight down for about 300 feet, and then begins an angled descent to the valley floor about 1500 feet below.  

     Across the valley to the east, I see a sheer, steep, canyon wall about three quarters of a mile away.   As I look to my left and then to my right, I see that the canyon walls on this, the west side of the valley, fall back so that the ledge we are on extends out into the valley providing a clear view several miles to the north up the canyon and a view to the south all the way to Springfield about 20 miles away.  

We are also high enough to see over the ridge on the other side of the valley.   To my surprise, rather than a series of mountaintops, I’m looking at a plateau that stretches to the east for miles.   Beyond the plateau, I see distant mountaintops.  

Although we are still under clear sky with bright sunshine, I look to the left and see the dark, ominous-looking clouds that fill the northern sky.   As I watch, dual flashes of lightning light the clouds.   I count, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three. . .   My count reaches one thousand thirteen before I hear the beginning of the accompanying wave of thunder.   Sound travels at 1,088 feet per second, approximately 742 m.p.h   That’s about one mile every five seconds, so the lightning strike was a little over two and one half miles away.

The sound amazes me as much as the view, for it is not a simple, single sound.   It is rather a wave that echoes and then re-echoes off the canyon walls, giving the effect I might expect if I were sitting under a giant bowling alley.  

I look at Jazbell.   She smiles and says,  “The windows aren’t rattling.  You haven’t heard anything yet.   We still have a few minutes to get comfortable.”  

I say,  “These windows don’t look like they will rattle.”  

“Believe me, they will,” she says.   I examine the windows again.   While I am looking at the windows and their frames, Jazbell opens the backpack and takes out two bottles of water.   My focus is interrupted as she hands me one of the bottles.  

“This is for you,” she says.   We’ve just had some rather strenuous exercise, so move around for a minute or two.   Continue to breathe deeply, stretch your body and settle in to being here.”  

    She then proceeds to do for herself what she has recommended to me.   I again allow myself to follow her lead, and, although I can’t match her flexibility, together we move and stretch.   After a couple of minutes, I stop and sit on the couch that faces the window.   Jazbell joins me and says, “I’m going to take a moment now to state my intentions for being here.   Would you like to join me?” 

    By now, I’ve gotten used to her habit of starting each new activity with a consciously stated intention, so I say, ”Yes, my intention is to experience and enjoy a thunder storm from this unique vantage point and to share that experience with you.”  

Jazbell closes her eyes and put her hands on her chest says, “My intention is to experience again the awesome power of God’s creations and to open myself to who I really am."  

“Hmm, I like that idea,” I say.   “May I plagiarize your intentions for myself?”  

“Of course,” she says.  

So, with deliberate and conscious intent, I say, “My intention is to experience the awesome power of God’s creations, to share that experience with Jazbell, and to open myself up to who I really am.”  

Jazbell looks at me and says, “Now, in response to your command, see and feel light descending down into you from the heavens.   Feel the light as it enters body and then  like a mild explosion, see and feel it expand into every fiber of your being, and finally watch it continue to expand back out and fade into The  Essence of Everything."   

She's silent.   After about a minute, I open my eyes and look at Jazz.    She looks back and says, 'I hope you are prepared to receive what you’ve just spoken into existence'.”  

“I think I am,” I say.  

“Well, if you just think you are, may I add little prayer of support to your declaration?”  

“Yes, please do.” 

She proceeds to pray, “For both Stoney and for myself, I speak now to Pure God, Pure Goddess and All, to Divine Mother, Divine Father, to Jesus to to Buddha, to Krishna, and to all the beings of love and light who are here with us.   With love, appreciation, and with deep gratitude, we say thank you for watching over us and caring for us.   Thank you for guiding and supporting both of us in manifesting our intentions to experience the awesome power of divine creation, in sharing that experience with each other, and in opening ourselves up to who we really are.   Thank you for your divine guiding light and for your love.”   Then after a moment of silence, she adds, “We have spoken and so it is.”  

We both sit in silence, looking at each other.   After a minute or so, I get up, walk to the open window, and lean out to look at the approaching storm clouds.   I can now easily see the distinct wall of rain approaching.   To the southwest, the sun, although still visible, is slowly being obscured by clouds.  

I return and sit with Jazbell.   I look at her and say, “Thank you for your prayers of support, and thank you for bringing me here.   Like you, this place is one of a kind.   I’ll bet there isn’t anything even remotely like this anywhere else on the entire planet.”

“You are certainly right about that,” she says.   

I relax enjoying the company and enjoying the view.   As I look across the valley, I see another lightning strike on the distant plateau.   I count out loud, one thousand one, one thousand two . . .   This time the count reaches only nine when I hear the accompanying thunder.   The windows rattle slightly as the sound echoes and then re-echoes off the canyon walls.  

I get up again and go to the window.   Jazbell follows me.   I put my arm around her shoulder and together we watch in silence as the storm moves closer.   I feel uniquely blessed as we stand there.   I shift my focus between watching the approaching storm and clandestinely looking at Jazz.   At one point she catches me staring at her.   I quickly look away.   She simply smiles and says nothing.   We stand there for what I would guess is about ten minutes as the wind picks up and the lightning flashes get closer.   Some of the thunderclaps are so powerful now that I actually feel them in my chest.  

I am particularly fascinated by the thunder.   The sounds vary, depending upon the direction from which they come.   Thunder originating from the plateau across the valley hits with a boom that rocks the windows and then reverberates back across the valley only to hit the wall and return with a lesser intensity.   The cycle continues for several rounds and becomes softer and more distant with each round until it finally fades into the whistle of the wind.  

Thunder coming down the valley from the north sounds like a bowling ball on a giant, overhead, bowling alley.   The echo from across the valley is still there, but the sound is uniquely different.  

As we stand there together, without a word, Jazbell dips down under my arm that’s around her shoulder and walks back to the area near the door where our shoes are.   From the shelf she retrieves a glass jar, opens the jar and takes something out.   I can’t see what it is.   She re-seals the jar, places it back on the shelf and returns to the window.   She takes my hand, lifts my hand and arm to shoulder level and does a 360-degree spin.   She ends up close against my left side with my arm again around her shoulder.   She smiles up at me and my heart skips another beat.  

I take a deep breath to regain my composure and, as I exhale, I see that she is holding a balloon.   She hands me the balloon and says.   “Would you blow this up please?’   I blow up the balloon and tie the end in a knot.   

“Now hold it between your two hands like you were holding a basketball.”   I hold the balloon as instructed.   In less that one minute, I am aware of why I’m holding the balloon.   Lightning flashes on the plateau across the valley.   When the resulting thunder reaches us, the balloon vibrates like a drum, and I feel the thunder, not only in my chest, but also in the balloon between my hands.  

Jazbell takes the balloon and places it between us with one side on her belly and the other against mine.   We hold each other, look into each other’s eyes and, with the next roll of thunder, we vibrate together.   She then moves the balloon up under our chins.   The next roll of thunder makes us both laugh.   She then takes the balloon and releases it into the wind.   Almost instantly, the balloon rises above the roof and disappears behind us.  

We continue to watch as the wall of rain approaches.   The sun is completely hidden now.   The wind is quite strong.   The wall of rain looks more and more ominous as it approaches.   My heart is beating faster now.   I know that I’m perfectly safe and yet, I feel like I’m about to be washed away by a tidal wave. 

As the water drops begin to drum on the roof, the sound echoes inside the cabin and in my brain.   I feel something that I cannot explain.   It’s a déjà vu’ experience, as if I am re-living a past experience, and yet it’s not that at all.   I roll the window closed, fasten the latch, and look at Jazbell with a puzzled look.   Her smile and her calmness reassure me.  

At that instant, a brilliant flash of light lights up the cabin, and in three seconds an enormous crash of thunder rocks the now-closed windows and shakes my whole being.   The power is awesome.   Everything very quickly gets very dark and the rain on the roof increases to a torrent.   I feel that I am inside a drum.

Jazbell takes my hand and leads me to the couch and indicates for me to sit.   She sits very close at my side.   She takes my arm and intertwines it with hers and holds my hand tightly in both of hers.   Without a spoken word between us, I feel the compassion of Jazbell as she senses me silently squirming in the storm.  

We watch wordless as Mother Nature sends a million tiny drummers to hammer at the cabin.   The wind is howling wildly now.   The gusts throw the aqua drummers even harder against the windows, roof and walls. 

The light is so dim that Jazbell’s beautiful face is just a shadow beside me.   Her warmth and her reassuring touch are all that keep me steadied.   The light gets briefly brighter and I look at Jazbell with questions dripping from my face.   I see that Jazbell is excited, and at the same time, I sense that she is also quite calm.   Her confidence that we are indeed safe briefly reassures me as the sky outside gets darker than ever.  

We sit, huddled together for how long I cannot say, as the darkened liquid roar pounds at the cabin’s windows, walls and door.   The hair on the back of my neck tingles and sticks out straight.   My heart races even faster.   I fear I’m about to step into the twilight zone, and I’m not too thrilled about it.  

I lean forward as though I were about to get up, but Jazbell pulls me back and throws her arm arms around me.   The instant I flop back into her arms, everything is bathed in an unusually bright flash of light.   In that flash, I see the face of a living angel just inches away from mine.   In less than a tenth of a second, I hear, and feel, a crash of thunder like I have never experienced before or since.   My entire body from head to toe, participates in a momentary thrill that defies my ability to explain it.  

In a rush of adrenaline, I’m swept completely out of my body.   For the briefest moment, I’m something else and somewhere else.   I have no body.  I have no mind.   I’m only ecstasy.   The next moment, I’m clutching Jazbell and laughing hysterically.  

Jazbell clutches back and lets out a yell that would make an Apache warrior proud.   I look at her with tears in my eyes and try to speak, but I’m breathless in my laughter.   My mouth moves, but no words come out.   Jazbell lets out another yell, and we both roll off the couch onto the floor in hysterical, uncontrollable laughter.   The storm continues to crashes on around us, and I’m now completely at peace with it. 

I roll her on top of me and just lie there, feeling like I’ve just given birth to the moon.   Like a virgin given to love, my night sky will never be the same again.  

Jazbell pulls a pillow and the blanket from the couch and covers us both.   As the laughter subsides, we shift and lie in spoon position — Jazbell with her back against my chest and my back against the couch.   For uncounted, precious minutes, we lie in silent joy, breathing, watching, and listening as the storm rolls over us.   The wind whips and whistles against the cliff.   All too soon, the light shifts and a ray of sunshine hits the cabin window.

The shifting light breaks the magic spell and draws our attention back into our bodies.   We sit up, lean against the couch, and continue to watch the storm as it heads for Springfield.   The wind quickly subsides, as if the ray of sunshine were a signal for it to stop.   The thunder echoes are now softer and much farther away.   Riding in on the gentle drip of the last raindrops as they fall from the cabin eaves, a peacefulness envelopes the cabin.  

A mere thirty yards to the south of the cabin, where, before the storm, only dry granite cliffs were visible, a stream of water now plummets off the ledge and sprays mist into the air as it strikes the rocks below.   A small rainbow surrounds the plummeting water and makes an unusual 270º of circle.   The afterglow of my instant ecstasy, combined with the sight of the rainbow, the receding storm, the smell of fresh, clean air, and the warmth of Jazbell at my side, pales all to my prior peak experiences.  

[In retrospect, I look back at this experience as a major highlight in my life.   Whatever I was, did, or experienced in that lightning-inspired instant of ecstasy drastically changed my entire outlook on life.   My fear vanished somewhere within that split-second when the thunderous crashing boom jolted me into another world.   Something special filled the void created by the vacating fear, and the serenity of that something lives in me still.   I don’t know what it is, or why it is.   It’s just there, in me now, no matter where I am or what I do.   Whenever I mention this to Jazbell, she laughs and says to me, “It was just God answering your prayers.”]  

Now back to our story. 

Jazbell gets up.   I start to get up, but Jazbell lovingly resists my movement by gently pushing me back down and signaling me to remain silent.   “Stay in the experience,” she whispers into my ear.   She retrieves her backpack, returns, and sits on the couch behind me with one leg on either side on me.   I remain sitting on the floor, back against the couch, facing the window.   She wraps the blanket around her back and engulfs both of us in a cocoon.   The blanket is unusually long and it easily covers both of us.  

I just sit there in silence and listen to all the sounds that surround me, my breathing, the receding storm, Jazbell’s movements, the water dripping from the cabin.   She hands me a water bottle and silently encourages me to drink several swallows, which I do.   She also drinks from the same water bottle, sets the bottle aside, places her hands on my chest, and ever so slightly, begins to rock me sideways.   I start to speak and again she signals me to silence, this time by placing a hand over my mouth.   "Stay in your feelings," she says.

After sitting quietly for about 20 minutes, she gently strokes my chest, my shoulder, and neck.   She places her hand between my shoulder blades and then slowly slides it up the back of my neck, up over the top of my head, down across my face and onto my chest.   She repeats this movement several times and my body responds with shivers from my head all the way to my feet.   I am surprised at my physiological reaction.

     She then begins to shake me, gently at first and then the shaking intensifies to become rather vigorous.   I just laugh and go with it.   For some reason, unknown to me this is rather hilarious.   After about a minute, she stops and says, ”Let’s return to the house.”

“You mean to the cabin.”

“Yes, to the cabin times ten.”   We close up the observation cabin and walk slowly back to the main house.

By the time we reach the house, our shoes and the bottoms of our pants are soaking wet, so we change clothes again.   Jazbell calls Eric and Frederica and asks about the delivery from Pete’s.   Our dinner has already arrived and Eric soon brings it to us.

As we share our mini feast, Jazbell says,  “Although there are several other options regarding things that we could share today, I am going to suggest we confine ourselves to completing dinner and then returning home.”

“I will follow your suggestions; however, I would like to know what other possibilities you had in mind.“

“There’s another building on the property that you haven’t even seen yet.   I’d like to keep that a surprise for your next visit.”

“I’m glad to know there’s going to be a next visit.   Apparently, I’ve passed the introductory test.”

“That you certainly did.“

“Well, I like surprises, so if what I have seen so far is any indication, I’m in for another delightful experience.”

“Indeed you are.”   

I say, “OK, then I choose to live in joyous anticipation until our next visit.”

End of Chapter Thirty One--- Hanging Out with Thunder & Lightening

Take me to Book One -- Chapter Thirty Two  

The Awakening

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