Last night I dreamt that I was driving on I-285 (the Atlanta Perimeter). I was on the outside loop heading toward the southwest, and just as I came to I-20 westbound (near milepost 10) the road suddenly entered a dark thick wood. Traffic ground to a halt, and well I could see why — on the various overpasses that connected the perimeter to I-20 stood dozens of abandoned, burned out cars. Indeed, several entire sections of one overpass was missing. On my side of the road only one lane was open, and the moving cars inched along, single file, past the many rusted shells of former vehicles.
Then I woke up. It was 3 in the morning and I had fallen asleep on our love seat. So I got up and went to bed, and there I had another dream. Now I was at Starbridge Sanctuary up near Dahlonega, and a festival was in progress. I didn’t realize a festival was happening, and so I made my rounds, hugging my many friends that I ran into. It was a Celtic themed event, and soon I ran into Danae, one of the owners of Starbridge. “This is Lisa’s Celtic Weekend,” she explained impatiently, as if everyone should have known that. “Oh, yes,” I said, vaguely remembering that our friend Lisa had an event in the works. I continued to mingle, continuing to hug folks here and there, but now it seemed as if I didn’t really belong there.