Sunday, May 07, 2006

Dream no. 380

In my dream, it's a beautiful summer's day. The sun warms us in the palm of its hand. Snatches of birdsong dance among the tree-tops, fractured by branches, here and there a single pure note suspended in the morning air, clear as a sunbeam.

The six of us are wandering down a forest path, not certain where it leads. We have never been this way before - it is an adventure. The whole scene could have been painted by Pisarro. Everywhere we look the greenery assaults us, reaches out her arms to us like a speechless young girl. Every extended branch is both an invitation and a cry for help. Under our feet the heather smells new, but the path we are walking on is already well-trodden. It is a public holiday today, and many others are already ahead of us.

After many hours of walking, we come to a massive clearing, a great oval space, ringed with ancient trees. This is where all the other picnicers have gathered, whole families scattered along the periphery of the clearing, in the cool shade of the forest's edge. Somewhere a radio is playing Once upon a summertime. Off on the far side we see a great tree like a barely controlled explosion, its leaves like tiny flames. And underneath it, a single park bench, its back turned to the clearing, looking away into the invisible distance.

Walking towards this tree, we finally see the river. It's right there, just beyond the trees, skirting the edge of this clearing and then turning in a great curve to flow on south. We climb up a low rise and stare at it. The water is brilliant here, clear and unpolluted so you can see right down to the shallow bottom, tinted green like a bottle of lemonade. An old stone bridge, half in ruins, leaps desperately across the river. A row of battered rocks, trail their way down to the water in descending order, looking for all the world like a portrait of the evolution of stone. The sun is very hot now, and beside it, the river seems like a promise of infinite, lazy coolness.

I stand on the rise staring at it, wondering what lies beyond that next bend, trying to ignore the excited cries of children drifting up from where they are playing, just on the edge of my sight. An unmanned boat drifts by, trailing a lenth of broken rope behind it. No one seems to pay it any attention. I turn to my companions, wanting to point it out to them, but they are down in the clearing now, playing board games.

All the beauty in the world is passing helplessly by me. And I am alone.

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13 comments:

Fingers said...

Yours is a beautiful dream.


I wish for dreamless sleep.

confused said...

Even in your dream you are alone! and an unmanned boat passes by..

Perhaps, being alone helped you see ''all in the beauty in the world passing by helplessly''.

Champa said...

Its beautiful. It always amazes me that one can remember exactly how one felt in a dream. So is it that we actually feel when we dream or that we dream that we feel.

Anonymous said...

"All the beauty in the world is passing helplessly by me. And I am alone."
Meaning that the others do not understand it?

AK

Anonymous said...

Also, is 380 a random number or am I being thick headed?

AK

drifting leaf said...

Fal...that feeling of being alone in a world full of beauty...you're lucky that's a dream...that's real for me...

its a shame to see something breathtakingly beautiful and to look around and find that you have no one to share it with...breaks my heart...

drifting leaf said...

hey...btw...weren't you busy this weekend...and not gonna blog?...?

drifting leaf said...

oh...another question...
wanted to read out your post on the haircut to a friend...you wrote it a while ago...went to every damn category -humour, rant, whimsy, misc...even personal and life...and i was still lost...how the hell do i find it or any other?

Ser Feenix said...

Wow what a vivid dream. I never get such vivid dreams or if I do I dont remember. You seem to see lots of colours, hear and distinguish sounds, feel the heat of the sun, the cool water...its tough to do all this awake :)
So did you really dream all this and remember or was it just a well written piece.
If it really was a dream, we need Freud to interprete the repressed memories for us ;)

shakester said...

what?!
you have not posted on Monday?!
:)

drifting leaf said...

you okay? you alive? don't give me that time difference talk and make me feel stupid... and email me...

Falstaff said...

fingers: Thanks. Yes, I do too mostly.

confused: yes. exactly.

afwaah: yes, it's amazing how one can continue to experience the feeling of the dream long after the actual details of it have been forgotten.

AK: Not necessarily. Just that they're not here to share it with me. Look, it's a dream, it doesn't mean anything. Or nothing that does not involve repressed sexuality and mysterious things that happened to me when I was two. 380 doesn't mean anything either - for all practical purposes it's a random number (though in actual fact this is my 380th post)

Leaf: Yes, that feeling of experiencing something beautiful and having no one to share it with is what the dream is chiefly about. The haircut post is:

http://2x3x7.blogspot.com/2005/09/unkindest-cut-of-all.html

And as you can see, I'm back now.

ser feenix: I did really dream it, though I may have embellished it considerably. The actual dream wasn't anywhere near this coherent or detailed, but the overall set-up was as described here.

shakester: yes, I know, I know. See post-script to my next post

tanvi said...

you had a beautiful,vivid, poetic dream.
Plus I am amazed how you remember it so clearly.