My earliest memory that I know happened in my own head was a dream I had when I was three. We now lived at Reid Lake, north of Prince George, B.C. on a farm, I think. It had fields, and a pond, and a barn, and a creek, all the trappings of farmness. One of the fields was across the creek, I think it had to be forded for there was no bridge. On the far side of the field the track which led through the field went into the trees, out of sight and into imagination. Who knew what kind of creatures lived in those woods?
In dreamland the imagination can take mysterious things and show them in the clear light of day. I remember going to the field on the far side of the creek. I walked across the stream on a log which had been set there for that purpose. I was out in the middle of the field when I saw a big black bear standing in the track at the opening of the forest, and he was looking at me. I saw him get down on all fours, and I knew I had to run home or be eaten by the bear, so I ran as fast as I could go back to the log. I could hear him gaining on me, hoping for a little boy for lunch, but I knew, somehow, that if I could just get across that log the bear wouldn’t get me, because it couldn’t walk across logs like I could. I made it, and here I am today to tell the tale! Ah, dreams!
