I don’t know what dreams mean but I visited with a dead friend last night.

Randy died this year in May, colon cancer, fifty-nine years old.

He was in the last part of my dream. In the first part, I was in a wilderness area not far from a two lane road. It was a pleasant day, sunshine and clouds mixing to keep it from being too warm or bright. Rugged topography dominated, with mountains in the background. This was difficult land, mostly granite, with a few stands of tall fir trees and meager dry, brown brush.

I was with other men. I think there were eight of us but I’m not certain. We were out ‘visiting with nature’, which is all I can guess from my memory of the dream. We’d deliberately separated, fanning out to do different things. I came across an older friend, Frank. He was part of the group. Frank is alive and I see him every other week or more.

A cougar was stalking Frank. He didn’t know. I saw it and warned him, and the cougar left without incident. Frank and I talked briefly in general terms. He drifted in one direction. I headed back toward the road, where a small pavilion on a stony hillock was erected.

An enormous brown bear appeared. Its size shocked me. As it ambled in my direction, cutting me off from the pavilion, I realized it was far bigger than the pavilion. Round and broad, the bear dwarfed some of the granite boulders strewn about.

I worried about him getting me so I was staying as still as I can, and moving carefully when needed so the bear couldn’t get too close, trying to keep the pavilion between us. When that failed, and the bear might come my way, I went invisible for a bit.

The bear entered the pavilion. He could barely fit and it was somewhat comical. Frank appeared then and I re-appeared to warn him about the bear. As we watched together, the bear left the pavilion and walked away, sniffing the air as he traversed the rocky landscape.

The others came and I told my story, trying to convey the bear’s incredible size. Then we were off, headed for home, separating at different points along the way. I was soon traveling with another group.

Here’s the weird part. They were traveling in a vehicle that wasn’t a vehicle. Five abreast, they were lying in something that conveyed them but had no color or form. It made no sound and was open to the world. It was like they were just lying in the road, five abreast, reclined at a steep angle, like in an airline seat, but they traveled on a unlined black asphalt road faded gray with age.

A guide was with them, talking about what was coming up. She stopped to introduce me to the group as I stood off to one side, calling me by my name, Michael, and mentioning I was one of their leaders. Then, proceeding to tell what was to happen next, she mentioned that they were coming up on Randy’s house on the right. Then she faltered, unsure what to say about Randy.

Realizing she was at a loss, I said, “Randy isn’t there any more. He’s a great guy, but he had to check out early.” After I spoke, the people drove on. I turned, and there was Randy. I put my arm around his shoulder and told him I was sorry what had happened to him. He, in his typical manner, told me not to worry, it’s not bad, that he was alright.

We separated, with him walking away in a green shirt and blue jeans, just like we’d run into each other while shopping. I continued on.

Reaching the end without incident by following the road and then cutting across a field, I came to a large, well-lit white warehouse. I knew this was where I was heading. The doors were open. People were busy inside. Dusk was gathering. I was just beginning to enter when I awoke.

I’ve been researching dreams for a novel in progress and discover that progress about them has been made but we understand little. While Freud and Jung had their ideas, others later bashed those ideas. Studies estimate that 70% of people dream, and the average person has five to seven dreams per night. Dreams seem to take place during R.E.M. sleep. Dreams last longer when they happen later in the sleep cycle, which is usually later at night. It was once theorized that dreams originate in the brain stem and was related to more primitive processing, but a neurologist discovered that people with brain stem injuries continue dreaming while those with parietal lobe damage (in the forebrain) did not dream. We don’t know why we dream or what they mean.

Studies continue.