I have been waiting for what seems “too long.”  My friend has been sitting in a straight back chair to my right and behind me while I stand at a window looking out across a narrow valley.  The creek, while not looking at all menacing from where I stand, is being blamed for blocking our travel down the small valley.  Looks normal from here to me, but you can tell that all traffic has ceased along the road which follows the meandering body of water.  Wait! maybe the lighting outside isn’t actually normal;  maybe the daylight seems an artificial daylight?

My friend seems to be getting a haircut. “How long is this haircut going to take, anyway?”  “Okay, then.  How long is this styling or grooming going to take?”  “Alright already, just what exactly are you doing to his hair?”  I look carefully toward my friend and the other person.  It is not easy because the electricity is apparently off, and the room is lit only by the daylight coming through a couple of small windows of this small room.  My friend and the third man are together holding up a small rectangular unframed mirror in front of my friend’s face apparently so that he can see his hair.  His hair is shoulder-length, straight, blond, and does not appear to me to have been cut or appreciably changed from the way it was before.  I am thinking that we “had better get a move on.”  We want to follow this creek up to its source, and then cross over to another route which should not be blocked.  There are many cabins and modern homes along the route with which I am familiar (in the dream).  I anticipate meeting many more people, and learning more about this emergency associated with the creek which, by the way, soon meets and joins more tributaries to form a river.

“Let’s shake a leg.” I say.  Still they look in the mirror;  and so, I step over to take a look myself.  The mirror being held by three and sometimes four hands is covered in fog/moisture, but still there on its surface you can see a scene.  There are moving images in both the lower left and in the upper right quadrants, and there is also a scene near the central region.  This central scene looks like a depiction, an aerial view of our present location.  You can see the house, and possibly make out figures (us?) through a window.

The scene in the lower left is a scene of two lovers on a gorgeous alpine meadow which juts out upon a high mountain cliff.  The man and woman are making love.  My attention is drawn to drops of moisture falling to the ground.  The couple is sweating and maybe crying.

The image in the upper right is a scene of death.  A man stands bound with his back against the wall of a high mountain fortress or castle.  The captain of the guard is giving orders to ‘fire’ to five soldiers who have pointed their rifles at the poor victim.  I mostly notice drops of moisture falling to the ground.  Sweat and tears from both the convicted man and his murderers.

When I look back to the center of this foggy mirror I can see myself outside the small house.  It is early morning, and everything is dripping with dew.