I was traveling by car in a foreign city, making my way home. There were many mountains. I was on a highway and took an exit (heading west, I think). The exit ramp wound around and then went down a very steep hill. The bottom of the ramp was completely flooded out with rushing water. There was no way I could avoid it. I moved through it praying that I would make it back to land and that my engine wouldn’t be flooded. As I was thinking this, I looked out the passenger side window and saw the blue sedan which had been ahead of me, pulled over on the side of the road with a flooded engine. My engine stalled too.
How I got to where I received help is vague, but the next thing I remember is being with some Amish people, who oddly enough, had some old Jewish women living in their midst. I was outside talking with a couple of men. The homestead was simple, but very large. It seemed as if we were in The Alps. It was very cold with crisp air.
At one point, I am inside sitting on the floor. A young boy is asking me something. I think we are talking about where I needed to go, or whether or not my phone worked for me to call for help. I pulled out my phone and showed him the trouble I was having. He then pulled out his iPhone. It was red. I laughed and said, “No offense, but isn’t it funny that even an Amish boy has a nicer phone than I do?” He laughed too.
I remember talking with the old women, but not our conversation. My clearest recollection, in addition to the rushing water on the ramp, is of being upstairs in a bed room and being astounded by the cats that were walking on the clouds. I was astounded and stood there watching. One came near my window, approaching a nearby tree, and I realized that the cats were able to do this because of their light footsteps and that it was so cold that the clouds were coated in a thin coat of ice.
As remembered the morning of 5-11-12