How it began...

The very first memory I have, is waking up in my Grandma's cabin very early in the morning and sneaking out into the kitchen. There I found a trail of ants leading from the fruit bowl, down to a pile of ants on the floor with another trail leading to the back patio door. Each trail was made up of two rows, one row of aunts going to and one row of ants going from. I slowly examined the spectacle but quietly snuck back to bed and soon fell back asleep. The thing about my first memory, however, is that my mother swears it was a dream and that it never actually happened. She remembers me waking up that morning to tell her about it--but I remember seeing it with my own eyes. To this day, I can remember how the morning sun hit the floor through the many windows that faced out onto the porch. But, perhaps this memory is a dream, and proves just how vivid my dreams can be (which I will talk about at another time).