Sometime early this morning–maybe even during the time when I hit the snooze button repeatedly before I mustered up the tenacity to get out of bed–I had a dream. I don’t remember what the plot of it was, if dreams can be said to have plots, just that it involved a bizarre grouping of people I know up here at school and people I haven’t seen (at least not often) since high school. But that’s not important.
What is important is that in the dream, I was in Texas. And I was driving somewhere (who know where) and it was dark and there were a zillion stars in the sky. There was Orion, my favorite, clearly stretched out and surrounded by clusters and individual stars and by constellations whose names I don’t know. And I swear to you that it was exactly the night sky I’m accustomed to on a clear night back home. Exactly, not some bizarre, twisted dream version.
I woke up feeling like I’d been out star gazing in Texas. I know this sounds kind of strange, but the experience in that dream was so genuine and so familiar that I almost feel like I was home for a quick visit. All day long I’ve been thinking about the image of the sky and feeling a little closer to home. Apparently, the stars at night are always big and bright deep in the heart of Texans, even when they’re 2,000 miles away.