I’m dreaming and I see a hand striking a heavy wooden door repeatedly. I hear the knocking VERY LOUDLY. I match the knocking with a loud shout out in my sleep, “COME IN!” and this wakes me up.
I am no longer asleep. Now I am having a conscious dream in waking life. I remember it was supposed to snow for the first time last night. It is still dark out. I put my slippers on and let my dog out. I stand by the kitchen sink looking out the window watching the snow fall until daybreak. After several minutes I begin thinking of my childhood winters in NH. I feel the wonder and magic of the first snow. The memories fall softly with the gentleness of snowflakes. Suddenly, massive black wings swoop down from my rooftop just a few feet from my window, ducking under the trees and then back up again to the sky with amazing speed and grace. The lead crow (or are they ravens?) is followed by one, two, three, four others. They cry out to me as they pass and I feel the birds in my chakras wanting to take flight and follow. They stir and rustle wing feathers as I remain watching out the window. A fifth crow was lagging behind the others and swoops down and up following her comrades exact flight path. Then they are gone.
And so it begins. My first winter in Maine.