Monday, August 24

About a dream.

I sit beside the window which looks onto the garden. I see and hear nothing but rain falling from the sky. Under these grey clouds, I live and I wonder, what is it about rainfall that makes me want to slip underneath bed sheets and sleep until tomorrow? When the rain begins, I can feel my able body slowly beginning to sink into itself, as if I had drank a quart of moonshine. I want nothing, I need nothing, only the sound of rain as my lullaby and a pillow near my head. If you told me Mother Goose lives in the sound of raindrops, I would believe you.

This morning, I arose from a dream about a bone dry riverbed. I came to it unannounced like I often do in my dreams, no clue as to where I was going, all I could see was a long stretch of desert where water was supposed to be. I wanted to swim. I wanted to hear my own beating heart below the water, maybe catch a wild trout with my bare hands. I wanted all of these things, but I could not have them, not even in my own dream, because the river was empty. If those of us landlocked cannot dream of full rivers, if those of us sea bound cannot dream of the prairies, then our dreams become meaningless. What would be the point of a dream if it was painted with the same brush as our every day lives?

When I opened my eyes, the window which looks onto the garden was covered in rain. I could feel my able body slowly begin to sink into itself. I wondered how I could dream of a bone dry riverbed when the world around me looked like an ocean. C turned to me as he always does when the sun first blushes and asked me what I was thinking of. I tell him the story. As I began to speak, it made even less sense to me. What could be the meaning of a dream which only leaves you feeling empty?

I realize now, as I look longingly onto the garden, a place where tomato plants burst and bloom like tiny emblems of a passing summer. Maybe, the dream only hollers of my wish to be swimming, to always be summer bound, and to be free as the apron which flour spills onto. Maybe, the dream is less of a dream and more of a tiny siren song warning me to live a little louder before the riverbed dries.

Here I am. Here is where I'll always be. The only thing that changes is the way I see it.

The Outfit
 Dress Chicwish*
  Shawl/Scarf Mum's Closet
  Heels Thrifted at Value Village


The Location
Ravine behind my house
 

12 comments:

  1. What a lovely outfit! We actually carry a dress in a really similar print to that!
    EverRose.com

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  2. I think dreams are just fragments of things we thought about during the day, nothing more. It might not sound very romantic but then again, life seldom is.

    / Avy
    http://MyMotherFuckedMickJagger.blogspot.com




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    Replies
    1. Never lose any lick of your melancholy. It is beautiful and I often share similar sentiments that don't always make it to the blog.

      Life is a strange thing. I am often in awe of it, other times it simply feels like there is no reason to pen metaphors or try to make sense of it. It just is. I need to accept that more often.

      Thanks.

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  3. Oh wow this post is just so so beautiful! Your outfit is just too beautiful!

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  4. The dress is so beautiful! I love your writing - I can picture myself surrounded by nature every time I read your posts :)
    Dora
    http://www.adropofindigo.ca/

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    Replies
    1. I so appreciate your sweet words. Thank you!

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  5. Your dress is so pretty, I love this boho look
    xo
    www.laurajaneatelier.com

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  6. I adore this photoshoot. all the colors and tones are so pretty, and your shoes are cute!

    ♥♥
    winn
    winscribbles.blogspot.com

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  7. Your dress is so pretty, i like it very much!

    http://www.angelamall.se

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  8. That dress is stunning. Yours words are stunning. Everything about this is so beautiful. Thank you for sharing beauty.

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