I had a dream early this morning. It’s a recurring dream, sort of, but more like a TV series. Each time I have this dream, it’s like the next chapter in a book. The main body of the dream is always different, but the framework is the same, and each dream builds on the last.
I first had this dream a couple of years ago, shortly after Jez and I got together. In the dream, she and I were playing in the ocean at the beach, and had made a sort of raft out of the door from a cabinet. We attached a pole in the center and used a white bed sheet for a sail. Something happened, and we got blown out to sea. We wound up having an adventure I don’t quite remember, and at the end we were watching the sunset on a beach somewhere. Without turning to her, I said softly, “Well, that was quite an adventure.”
In the way of dream logic, the Eleventh Doctor showed up out of nowhere, pointed his sonic screwdriver at us, and said, “No. This is just your first adventure. There are a lot more to come.” The dream ended.
I often remember my dreams, and sometimes write them down. For whatever reason, I didn’t this time, and forgot all about it.
…until I had the next dream, just after we moved in together. We were on the raft, had a different adventure, this time with my Golden Retriever, Shakespeare, watched the sunset from a different beach, and The Doctor showed up to impart some deep wisdom or truth. I forgot the dream again.
The next time I had the dream was sometime after The Making Lemonade Road Tour began. The pattern repeated, and again I forgot it until the next time. Me, Jez, and Shakespeare on the raft, and this time I said at the end, “and to think this all started with me, you, and a dog on a cabinet door,” before The Doctor showed up.
I had the dream again a couple of times while I was at The Rose Marie, only instead of Jez and Shakespeare, it was Meghan and Blue with me. And in the dream, it had *always* been Meghan and Blue with me. There isn’t always much logic in dream logic, I suppose.
I usually have the dream in the middle of the night, wake up with all the warm fuzzies, and go back to sleep to dream some more. Perhaps that’s why I keep forgetting it, and never remember to write it down before it slips away.
I’ve had the dream quite a few times since then, and sometimes it’s Jez on the raft, sometimes Meghan (and Blue instead of Shakespeare), sometimes my daughter Kayla, or my son James, or my friend Elizabeth (never Beverly, oddly, but perhaps that’s because she isn’t much of an outdoorsy person) and it always ends on a beach watching the sunset, I always say, “and to think this all started with me, you, and a dog on a cabinet door”, The Doctor (always the Matt Smith version) always shows up to deliver some line, and I always wake up feeling wonderful.
Sometime around the time I got a bigger tent, we abandoned the cabinet door and got a bigger ride. It’s like a galleon or something from the old sailing days, but not as big as that.
This morning I had the dream again, just before I woke up, and I’m writing it down before I forget. Last night it was Kayla and Shakespeare, and we were on an island in the sky that was also on the ocean (dream logic again), fighting pirates. I can’t quite remember the details, or what The Doctor said, but I’m glad I’ve finally managed to get this much written down.
Interestingly, let me note that the mountains surrounding Mount Lemmon are sometimes referred to as a “Sky Island”.
The above piece is a combination of six frames. Three on the left, combined into an HDR image, three on the right combined into an HDR image, then the two HDR images stitched together into a panorama.
Images & Content © 2012-2018 Louis Shackleton
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