More Dreams: A Scene Revisited
Feb. 26th, 2006 01:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormBeyond the inlet, over the sharp upthrust of the mountains to the south, there is a lake. The altitude is very high, mountains upthrust abruptly from the ocean like craggy granite teeth, and the highway climbs doggedly up over that crest to fall to the lake. The lake itself is a deep green-blue, that alpine colour, even in early March. This geography exists on no map in the real world, but I've been here three times in dreams now.
Last time, in my dream, I'd made it across on the ferry and managed to get up to the top of the crag. There is a little bustling community there, tourists and the vendors who feed on them and who feed, too, on the people who get out of their cars during the traffic jams and seek a little food, a little shopping. It's a very dry climate. All the rock is sharp red granite, upthrust in spikes and loose in rough sharp gravel underfoot. Nothing grows.
This dream I was in a shopping area up there, all made from fitted and polished red marble, and there were people I knew. We spoke with each other, and I went outside. It felt like a warm March day anywhere, the air thin and cold but the sun on me hot wherever it touched. Veins of blood-red ran through the sheared granite.
This is a dream I have in spring. I wonder if someday I will reach the lake? It was so bright, below, with that powdery aqua colour of high lakes.
Last time, in my dream, I'd made it across on the ferry and managed to get up to the top of the crag. There is a little bustling community there, tourists and the vendors who feed on them and who feed, too, on the people who get out of their cars during the traffic jams and seek a little food, a little shopping. It's a very dry climate. All the rock is sharp red granite, upthrust in spikes and loose in rough sharp gravel underfoot. Nothing grows.
This dream I was in a shopping area up there, all made from fitted and polished red marble, and there were people I knew. We spoke with each other, and I went outside. It felt like a warm March day anywhere, the air thin and cold but the sun on me hot wherever it touched. Veins of blood-red ran through the sheared granite.
This is a dream I have in spring. I wonder if someday I will reach the lake? It was so bright, below, with that powdery aqua colour of high lakes.
