Last night I had the craziest dream.

First, I was walking a long a country road with my dog, on both sides of the road there were abandoned barns and fields and pastures. A giant hawk flew over us to a pasture on the other side of the road, while he flew he turned into a horse, and the horse landed in the grass. We kept walking. I saw a man with goats, and I went in to see what he was doing. There was a lot of goats, and there was also a lot of baby goats. And there were golden goats who had wings. I asked the man if I could have a goat, and he gave me a little alpine (the reason why I know the breed is because my father-in-law owns goats) who I named Dama. I am not sure what Dama means or where my brain got that name, but thats what I named her. Then Dama was suddenly grown and I milked her. I put the milk in a big red bowl, and the milk was very warm.

Kind of a weird dream for me.

I have always been interested in survival. I love reading things about pioneers and cowboys in the west, about the first people from the tigris and euphrates, about any nomadic culture imaginable. I love these histories because they are all about surviving, about taking the environment you live in and thriving off of it. I am not sure why I love this so much, but I do.

So dreaming about Dama and milking her really let me think about surviving. If you needed milk, you didnt go to the grocery store and pick up a jug, you had to have an animal that produced it and you had to milk it out yourself.

I don't know why I think thats so interesting, but I do. Part of me wants the world to collapse so we can start over. So I can help to build the foundations of a society that appreciates the thing that gave it so much life.