Words from Pep
A Dream in Black & White
I left the tent flap open to catch what little breeze there was. It was a hot, humid, moonlit July night and I lay with my head at the door absorbing the quiet of creation. This canvas antique leaked mosquitoes even more than rain. Still, I figured it would serve to keep out possum, coon and skunks… Wait, I have to be dreaming. Aren’t dreams in black and white… Eight inches from my face, curling up his dime sized nose at what obviously was the repulsive stench of a human three days without a shower, was a young polecat. Lay still. I told myself. No fast moves. … Luckily his business end was aimed the other way but I sensed he was priming it. He came closer. I remained mute, catatonic, eyes slowly crossing as his twitching sniffer pushed the tent screen to my forehead. There was no back door… Then I saw it, a virtual invasion, a battalion of black fur with racing stripes, shadows in the moonlight picking their way toward my flimsy, hopefully skunk proof bunker. It was a foray for worms and grubs by every Oreo with legs and tail in the county… I kept my wits intact trying to control the thumping in my chest. The forward scout emitted a near imperceptible squeak signaling four more troop members to my door and it dawned on me – maybe we could negotiate? … My first quiet syllable was clearly misunderstood, inducing an instant salute from each tail. Clearly the safeties were off, weapons cocked. This didn’t seem like a good idea. I invited God to help and went back to playing dead… Slowly the artillery was lowered and the summoned four returned to hunting in the soft wet humus. Only the original remained… The sound of probing, scratching, overturning of leaves and sticks moved through the forest and downhill toward the creek. Yet, my first contact stayed as if glorying in his telekinetic power keeping me pinned to the floor of my tent. When the brigade could no longer be heard he headed off in overdrive to catch up, mission accomplished… A slight bouquet of musk mingled with the damp ground. I lay relieved, even contented. Breathing easy, I mused of our encounter and the humor of Creator in devising this WMD. As I returned to sleep and dreams, only the sound of moonlight flowing through the branches filled the night.
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ONE WORLD – ONE FAMILY OF MAN – ONE CREATOR OF ALL