I am learning that at some point in the realization of a dream, the Big Idea achieves a consciousness of its own, and begins to unfold and reveal itself to the dreamers. It surprises, confounds, delights, and suggests or sometimes demands changes unforeseen in the written plan.
While Buck wrestles with the engineering of fireplace placement and new building code requirements for doors and windows, I dream of fig trees, grape arbors, and a rose garden.
Concrete was poured last Friday afternoon for the carport and the breezeway which will connect it to the front door of the house.
It was exciting to see Gary Mooneyham’s heating and air conditioning crew arrive to start their work Monday morning. The framers are concentrating on punching out of the main structure so the other trades can come in next week.
Tomorrow a big truck will bring all of our windows and sliding glass doors. That will be a watershed moment for me. I’ll be hopping up and down like an excited child.
The full moon this past weekend was astonishing as it washed through the open structure like a beneficent search light. I have never experienced the moon appearing so near that I could imagine it coming right down to rest at my feet. We turned our faces to it in silent wonder.
Meanwhile, with the prodigious energy of survivors, the Longleafs, ferns and wild flowers are putting on a show, making my morning walks an exercise in contemplative ecstasy, here in this Post-Postmodern Garden of Eden. I think Jung would have loved it here.