Dream: You Never Get a View Like This


Dream 20030504, 5:00 AM:
I am at the Kingwood house, or some approximation of it. As is so often the case in dreams, it’s sort of like, but different. I don’t remember why, but I get into an old car (one of the big boats from the eighties like my parents used to own) with some friend of mine, an older guy, and he drives down Kingwood drive toward what would be the highway, but it seems to turn into a bunch of wild country, kind of like Colorado or western Kansas. Hills, trees, and lots of rolling meadows. There are all kinds of flowers and many different kinds of trees.

I don’t remember a transition, but I find myself walking along in a meadow. I think that I’m walking with two female friends, but I have no real memory of who they are. We’re walking through a field of waving knee-high grass that is golden like wheat. There are lots of people around, but in little clumps, not really paying attention to the others.

Suddenly, a man runs up; I think that he’s the boyfriend of one of the two women. He is tallish and blond, and decent looking although not really dashing. He reminds me of someone, but I can’t place who, exactly – maybe R. from Houston when he was younger. He runs up to us, and then my perspective is sort of off to the side, like a movie shot changing to show more of the action. He starts talking in a kind of “proclaiming” voice, like he wants everyone around to hear. He has on a costume that looks like a robe, and he pulls it open, and he’s naked – but all I see is the side shot, kind of behind his shoulder; I know he’s naked beneath, though, by the expressions on the girls’ faces. He says something like, “Physical Fitness: always a desired and wanted part of my life! And you [kneeling in front of his girlfriend]…” and he goes on to say something else I don’t remember, and then he asks her to marry him, holding up a ring. She accepts, and hugs him, and they start rolling around in the grass. I look at the other girl, and we tacitly agree that they need some alone-time, and I wander off through the grass. I remember seeing a big flower shaped like a tulip that was kind of a buff gold color, and leaning down to smell it. I also remember a little nest in the grass, with three golden eggs a little smaller than a hen’s. I look back, and see that the man and the woman are having sex out in the field, partly covered by his robe; then I look more carefully and see that the other woman is with him too, and I’m just a bit jealous. I keep on wandering, and at the edge of the field is a rose bush. I pick a bunch of roses, just the petals, and walk back toward the little menage-a-trois. I toss the petals up into the air, and they dance downward like theatrical confetti, twirling end-over-end in the air. I remember thinking that this was where the sequence was going to end, but it just shifted.

I’m in a house on the edge of the clearing; I don’t remember a transition. I get a call on my phone, and the voice on the other end starts talking about how he’s a little man with silver hair – it’s spoken in a sing-song rhyme style, like a nursery rhyme almost. I walk out into the field, and see the little man, who is talking on a cell phone. He looks like a fantasy dwarf from some Grimm Brothers tale – short, with a long white beard and curly white hair and a little cap. When I see him, I point at him and he points at me, and we both hang up. I walk over to where he’s standing, and we start walking along.

We start by walking along the edge of the huge meadow. We’re just talking about things in general, I don’t remember what. I am looking at and trying to figure out all of the different plant life. One kind that I notice especially has pairs of alternating long green leaves, and flowers that look sort of like white marshmallows. The whole plant has a strong scent, kind of a lemon-vanilla-mint blend. I look at several of them, and see that they are rising up out of what looks like a patch of snow, or the soda ash that forms on my blocks of soap – I touch the stuff, and it has a very soda-ash like consistency. I realize that it’s part of the plants. I say that they’re probably called Spring Snow Flowers or something like that, because it looks like they’re coming up out of patches of snow. Some of the plants look like they’re sprouting up out of it in big marshmallow shapes, with the leaves starting further up.

We continue walking, and now we’re on a dirt road beside a fence. I see a nut on the ground, and it reminds me of the sea beans I used to find on the beach, and also of the baby cheese round I had yesterday for lunch. It is like a walnut, but with a dark stripe around the center. I pick it up by snapping my finger and opening my palm; it leaps upward into my hand with a firm smack, like a yo-yo returning too hard. At this point, I go through a little reasoning process, talking with the dwarf about how these are Special Dream Powers, which means that I’m dreaming – this usually takes me into a lucid dream, but this time, I must have failed my roll for lucid realization, and the dream just continues.

As we’re walking along, the vista to our left suddenly opens up, and there is this truly amazing view. It looks like the valley slopes down beside us, and then back up; the overall effect is that the whole landscape of hills and mountains looks like it’s rising up before us like a bowl. I tell the little man that I wish Chris was here, that I could show him this. I think about it, and realize that it will be too late by the time I get back to the house, to come back out here – it will be dark. I wonder if I can do it another day, and I realize that our stay here isn’t very long, and I’m not sure if we’ll get a chance. It makes me feel sad. I tell the man, “You never get a view like this. This is just amazing.” We sit and just take it in for a few minutes. I see a little blackened silhouette of a horseback rider crossing the terrain, and tell the little man, “I think that’s a discount rider.” It sounds like it means something, like he’s part of the Pony Express or something. We talk about it some more, then head onward.

Again, no noticeable transition, but I’m in a bedroom with Chris. It seems kind of like the blue bedroom at the Kingwood house, crossed by some other room. I’m chewing a piece of gum. We are having a quiet, low-key kind of fight; the kind where it’s more about hurting one another than about actually discussing an issue, because we’re both mad, but still we’re not shouting or throwing things. I finally say something about him leaving. He starts going through drawers and pulling out clothes and things. I tell him I didn’t really mean it, but he keeps packing. He calls someone on the phone, and makes arrangements to stay with a friend for a couple of days. I have put some other piece of candy in my mouth with the gum, and it has made the gum into a sticky, soft mess – I get it on my fingers, and it sticks to my hand and everything I touch for a while, making long wispy strings. I say something about how I hate it when my gum turns into an unchewable mess. I put my arms around Chris’s shoulders from behind, leaving a little string of gum on his T-shirt. I tell him that I don’t want him to leave. He says that he’s going to stay for three or four days with a friend (he says a name, but I don’t remember) and that by that time, if he really doesn’t want to go, then part of him will reject it (leaving), and he’ll come back. I am very upset.

I am looking through some pages of paper on the bed; I think they’re set out there because Chris has separated them out from his stuff as he’s packing. One of the sheets has an ornate line drawing of a bird; another has song lyrics that I think are from an SCA thing. As I read them, the tune to them runs through my head. I see some names written on the back of the paper, and I think one of them is Elisheva’s… it makes me think about old times and events long gone, and mak
es me nostalgic. I leaf through several other pieces of paper, becoming kind of melancholy and weepy. Chris continues packing. I wake, feeling upset and lonely, although Chris is here beside me.

3 replies
  1. admin
    admin says:

    sensations in my dreams are often very fleeting, but occasionally particularly memorable. I make soap, and also have a lot of herbs and incenses and such around the house, and grow fragrant things outside… so I think I may just notice scent more than most. Since Dreamland is entirely hallucinatory, it’s all a matter of what impacts your imagination. I rarely get smells, and physical sensations seem “disconnected” most of the time – although in a dream this morning I got my fingers shocked from messing with wiring! I think “electrified” is a first for my dream record.

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