To Touch A Dream (4 of 4)
by Breezy

Morning came all too soon. Breakfast was hasty, and soon we were ready to leave. The mist swirled from the water like a dream. The sun shone behind the clouds, creating black silhouettes, framed by the golden water and gray sky. We slowly slid through the mist, not nearly as rapidly as we had begun our trip. The water was as calm as our spirits and we were hesitant to leave a world we would not soon see again.

We hurried through channels, across lakes and past bluffs. We tried to soak up as much of our surroundings as we could as we navigated between islands and through passes. This would be the last beaver, the last mink, the last loon that we would see or hear for years. Soon we were assaulted by the sounds of motorboats, voices and generally by the sounds of civilization again. Compared to the noisy silence of the wilderness, this all seemed so loud and annoying! We pushed hard and were nearing the Top of the Trail, our take-out point, when rain began to fall around us again. Huddled in our canoes wearing our ponchos, we tiredly rowed to the tiny beach that marked the end of our odyssey.

The rest of the evening was a hurried schedule of loading and unloading, packing and unpacking. The meal at the lodge was divine compared to the cuisine we had become accustomed to in the past days. The luxurious cabin was a mansion compared to the primitive accommodations we had experienced. We came into this lodge tired, stressed out and programmed to respond to someone else's schedule for our lives. We emerged with a feeling of release and rejuvenation, and a new confidence in ourselves and our resources. Feeling tired, yet relaxed, stronger, yet humble in comparison to the vast and powerful wilderness around us, we easily slipped into a deep rest.

Once again morning came too soon and we hurried to pack for the long road home. We did a little local investigating and headed out. We traveled along the highway with the fall colors bursting everywhere. As we rambled around curves and over hills through the brilliant blazes of color, once more a familiar phrase from my book came to mind, referring to this highway as "a ribbon threaded through a loose-woven fabric in autumn colors."

We left, not with the sense of sadness or loss that was expected, but rather with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment and awe. For those in the busy cement cities who suffer from the "call of the wild," the north woods is home, a timeless life that tugs at your heart strings and captures your soul in a single visit; a feeling of de ja vou, somewhere you should have been all along; a place you belong--home!

Everyone in their lifetime has a dream or two, a fantasy tucked in some hidden cove within their heart. We reach out and yearn for things seemingly unobtainable. Dreams seem to be elusive and vanish in some imagined mist of reality, evaporating as you get nearer, leaving you sad and discouraged. I have seen my dreams. I have reached out and touched a reality from days past. I have connected with a fantasy that in spirit lives on. I have seen the reality of dreams come true. I have stood near and reached out, tenderly caressing each moment, each childhood vision, as if viewing from the sidelines of some dramatic play, rerunning the events in my mind. I have touched it and I believe. Dreams can become realities, Never give up on dreams! I have touched mine!

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