Out in the rain at dawn to a new day. The Great Mother Conference continues with our mythopoetic investigation of "The Odyssey." Day 5. Dreamed last night. I woke remembering it, calling it significant, worthy of being explored. Then I forgot it. Moments later, someone unseen came crashing into our shared cabin as if stumbling into bed after a long night out by the fire with friends. The crashing noise made me remember the dream: the ceiling of my parent's house at 44 Brush Hill Road, the house I grew up in, caved in on the living room. I had prophesied this collapse after the death of my parents - had done no pre-emptive repairs to correct the damage, the wear and tear, the water soaked wood that wouldn't hold.

I rose before writing, and took my dream to the lake, to the woods, to the path, to the road. The journey continues.

Photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017