The Integrity of a Structure's the Thing

Whenever I dream I'm lost or there's a problem with directions I'm always in Point Pleasant.

In this morning's dream I was in Point Pleasant, but I wasn't lost.

It was drizzling and dark and winter, but I'd decided to go for a run there.

I passed roads that were flooded, but all the roads I took were passable, so I kept moving forward toward my destination.

When I turned around it was a different story.

A trafific light was out so I went through it.

Then I went right through a red light without checking if anyone was coming.

I couldn't believe it after I'd done it, but I seemed to be able to intuit it would be OK, and it was OK.

Then I got to a road that ended.

A narrow, mossy bridge, built with planks of wood that looked like they could  maybe bear the weight of a toddler followed the road, but the piece connecting the road to the bridge was missing.

I drove forward over the empty space and somehow made it onto the bridge without my car plunging into nothing.

I looked to my right and saw cars submerged on completely flooded roads.

I drove my car up the incline of the first part of the bridge and got to the top where my car and the bridge levelled off.

The top of the bridge was covered in ocean bracken, and it looked like it could disintegrate holding nothing, but somehow the integrity of this structure was not compromised by the storm. Its external appearance did not convey its internal strength.

I sat at the top of the bridge looking at the flooding around me and knew the worst part was over. I'd be able to get to the other side and be on my way back home.

I wonder why Point Pleasant features in my dreams recurrently. I hardly ever go there. Years ago I'd drive over the bridge from Point Pleasant to Manasquan for work. Maybe it's made a lasting impression on my brain.

Merry Christmas, my yummy, blog-reading chickens.

I love you all.