havards.org

Lately I’ve been having very detailed, vivid dreams. It’s been a long time since that has happened. Here’s the most intriguing:

We bought a small ship, like a very small caravel, about the size of a school bus. My dad, my kids and I took possession of the boat, and boarded her. (I should mention that none of us are sailors.)

We walked down some tight, turning steps and into the cabin. On our left, which was the rear of the ship, there was a sort of built-in high counter or desk. There was a cubby-hole of sorts on the right, with a hinged cover. It (and the rest of the ship) was outfitted with gleaming brass hardware. The dark wood was highly polished. ]

Behind the compartment was an opening in the desk, about one foot square. The opening showed nothing, it was black.

Near the compartment was a portrait of a man, done in porcelain, and affixed to the bulkhead. A small brass plate read “Con**el, shipbuilder, 1806.” I can’t remember the name, but I do remember that my Dad and I read the name differently. A Masonic symbol was affixed below the plate (pleasing Dad, an enthusiastic Mason).

Inside the compartment was a note that read, The keys to the ship are in a forward compartment. Advance down the nearby hatch to meet your doom. The “nearby hatch” was the black opening.

We turned to go forward, and above us on the horizontal beam that formed the sort of hallway we were entering was a big brass plaque, it spanned the width of the ship. In big letters it read, Let not size be your measure of success. That’s where my dream ended.

I don’t know exactly what to make of it.

A few nights ago, I stopped by the supermarket after work, to pick up a few essentials. In the dairy section, I saw a gangly kid, about 16 or so, shopping with his mother. He looked like he’d rather be anyplace else, with anyone else. He looked pretty miserable.

I noticed that he had on a ragged and worn Ramones tour shirt; it may well have been vintage, and barely fit him. I smiled to myself, because I remembered shopping trips like that, and because I was glad to see a kid from his generation who was obviously looking back upstream.

A little while later, I ran into the kid again, on the bread aisle. He was pushing the shopping cart, and his mom was not around. As we passed, I caught his eye with a jerk of my chin, pointed to his shirt and said, “Gabba gabba hey.”

His perpetual scowl broke for a second. There was a flash of confusion that said, “Why is this dressed-up old guy talking to me?” Then, as comprehension settled in, his face split into a wide grin, and all of his tension left him for just a second.

He nodded back, looked me in the eye, and said, “Awright!” As we passed each other, the connection was broken, and I saw his stoicism settle back over him like a blanket. I hope I made his situation a little more bearable.

I grinned all the way home.

I was heartened by the latest reports of sightings of the ivory-billed woodpecker, a bird thought to be extinct until a couple of years ago. There’s some controversy around whether or not the bird still exists, but it could, and people are looking. That’s a good thing.

If the ivory-bill could be confirmed among the living, alongside the Hoan Kiem Lake turtle and a few other ancients, I would sleep a little better at night. There’s so much about the natural world that we don’t understand, and much of it is slipping away.