The dream was winding yet vivid like the colors in a modern computer monitor. Somewhere in Northern Arizona, along Oak Creek there was a cliff with a rough, sandy face. The top of the precipice met violently with the blue sky. I crooked my neck up and saw a hawk, smooth like a perfectly made airplane sail noiselessly above my head. The overhanging trees drooped and swayed drunkenly as if about to fall but only shifted. I could see clearly the brown, crinkled face of the wall and knew I had to climb it. My feet were soaked and I look down; suddenly, I’m in the cold black water of the mountain runoff and I am paralyzed. I need to get to the top and my mind points up to the edge of the cliff, which now agonizingly seemed twice as high. Wait, I had moved down and I have further to climb now, but I want it more. The answer to my unformulated questions lies naked tanning just out of my reach. I must get there. My urge is a fever that sends a chill right up my spine. My feet are cold. The water is now knee high but I don't notice it rising. How can I get there? The effort to take the first step, the sheer responsibility of the unknown weights me down and I cannot move. Beautiful sparkles jump off the ledge, teasing me as to what’s on top. I feel the water rising, colder and now my waist can feel the current tugging me downstream. I almost start to move but am afraid. My feet are beginning to lose hold on green film on the underwater rocks. Life is letting me go. Thanks for playing. I have to do something but I can’t move. A branch cannot bear the weight of life and falls into the dark blue-shadowed current. My hand, in an attempt to balance is submerged in the black silhouetted water. More chills. A frog croaks, two more birds, black in the shadows float overhead and I begin to have trouble breathing. I take a step as the water reaches my chest and slip. A cool hell pinches and pokes me as I try to stand. I fling a hand in the air and it touches something. A long, dream-like hand grabs me. I look up and through the shock of feeling air again, I can see my savior is coming from the cliff. I am up on the cliff, climbing but being helped up like a mother cat picks up its kittens. My hands feel the top of the ledge and it feels different from the other terrain. I barely have enough energy to lift myself up, breathe a couple of times and then look -- tiny drops of perspiration had formed on my forehead. .