Sacred Space

It was wintertime right before the spring (outside and in my sleep) and I was walking up along a dirt road on a snow-covered mountain. Trees are intertwined above me, this vaulted canopy with light seeping through and dancing amongst the mist. The thawing and distant ice-cracking and ice-dripping through the ceiling. I get up to the top and find a good run – oh, I’m carrying a snowboard – and just then a huge brown grizzly bear emerges through the trees and looks right at me and roars. Like steam and spit coming from his breath and all that. Obviously, I’m running and he’s swipin’ at me as I cut through the trees and drop down this steep powder-bank and I’m looking back and he’s running right behind me and it’s all slow motion, I can see weight and power in his every step and I look him in the eye and I have this understanding it’s his hill – there’s bear history here, like his sacred spot, y’know? So I go for it and ramp up the side of the opposite hill which is like a really tall half-pipe, and right at the top there’s this main road with an aluminum rail and salt all over it and stuff, and I keep getting this massive air but I’m trying to land on the road so I keep going back and forth, but then it’s okay cause the bear’s just watching from the valley. And I wake up and I’m like, “I’ve been to a beautiful place.”