Several weeks ago, I came out of work to find an unassuming twig stuck in a vent hole on the hood of my car. The fruitless olive tree above me was shedding weak twigs in the stiff wind, so the twig had nothing going for it except having stuck the landing.
When I plucked it from its makeshift stand, however, the twig felt very important once I touched it. I tucked it away in the car to ponder later.
A few days later, I left work to find another twig from the same tree singing in the wind while rattling the same vent. I chuckled to pluck it out, but grew serious when I felt the same depth of importance as the first twig.
It joined the first in the safe space in the car.
The two twigs have survived many car clean outs and scrubbing. Something about this pair is important but I don’t know why just yet.
Last night I dreamt I was standing in the parking spot before the fruitless olive tree. A little child, not even 2 years of age, I think, was tottering around the parking lot, playing with twigs, leaves, and the wind.
The child waddled to me with a handful of twigs and handed me one. “Hee! Un fa you!” [Here! One for you!] I took the twig and bowed graciously because little children are precious and good manners should be encouraged.
The child wandered around some more. It was kept in a tight area by the pushing of the wind and the guidance of shadows. It picked up more twigs and came back to me. “Pwettee! Fa you!” [Pretty! For you!] I took the second and thanked the child again.
The child squealed with glee that its offerings were accepted and skipped away babbling happily.
I looked in my hands and realized where those two twigs were physically. The shadows hiding in plain sight behind the trees and in their canopies loomed ominously over me with silent threatening commands.
“Keep them. Or else.”
It felt like one part judging and one part testing.
I nodded and held the twigs close to my chest. “I will keep them, until you tell me what to do with them.”
The shadows stopped their darkened menacing and resumed keeping the bright sweet child company and protection.
As I walked away from the parking lot, I caught a whiff of the masculinity that sometimes accompanied me to work since I removed certain markers from my work desk. Who or what the masculine presence was that would smooth my journey to work is still unknown to me. That it would be present in this not-dream was neither surprising nor concerning.
Well, then.