Odd Dreams
Last night I had an interesting dream that, for once, wasn’t scary, or confusing, or creepy. It was actually kind of nice. So here goes:
I sat in history class, listening to Mr. L drone on about something I don’t care about, while Ms. D smiles and nods like he’s saying something profound. I connect the dots on the ceiling panels to make images of tiger faces, rearing horses, sleeping dogs, huge monsters. They leap out of the ceiling in a waterfall of earthy brown and gray furs, and carry me away in a sea of warm, furry bodies. I turn into a wolf and join a pack, soft, furred paws tamping down the summer-sweet smelling loam of the forest, leaves coalescing into an emerald tapestry above my head. Shrubs cling like terrified children to the age-cracked trunks of ancient trees, the smell of deer and rainwater scent the air. I come to a stream, clear and mountain fresh, spring grasses, new and green, sway to the music of a quiet wind along side the water. Suddenly, I’m a horse, but it doesn’t feel sudden, or jarring, it just is. The pack melts into the woods like so many shadows, hungry amber eyes winking like golden fireflies in the stray sunlight that unwittingly wanders into the trees. I change course, trotting alongside the meandering stream, until I reach a field, filled with bold jade grass, brilliant with fireworks of clusters of wildflowers. It is dotted with bluebells, daffodils, sunflowers which turn rapt faces toward the sun, monitoring its golden chariot ride across the sky. The stream feeds itself into a pool that shimmers blue like a morpho butterfly’s wing, rife with a promise of cool relief in the heat of the afternoon. Having gotten here, I am myself again, and I lie in the sweet, sunburned grass, and feel the golden beams of sunlight caress my upturned face with the delicacy of a feather from a Pegasus’s wing, let my hair fall in riotous tangles about my head like a caramel colored halo, and just breathe in the delicate perfume of wildflowers in this place untouched by people, untouched by the poisons that humans seem determined to leak into this planet.
I have just realized that I’ve written another “springtime”-y post. More likely than not, it will snow tomorrow because I’ve jinxed the good weather. Again. Anyway, that was a pretty good dream. In fact, it was almost cliched in how cheerful and upbeat it was. Darn! I’m having stereotypical dreams! Kill me now…
May 23rd, 2010Topic: Life, Ramblings, Writing Tags: Life, Writing
May 24th, 2010 at 8:44 am
Kid. There’s nothing stereotypical about your dreams.