Friday, August 14, 2009

Dreams

I’ve reached the point when I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t tired …

I hear bells. Seriously. I wake up at night hearing them – bells attached to the collars of horses.


Going. Moving.

I’m in a caravan of wagons. Going … out there. Somewhere. It’s so real. I’m not sure we have a direction, that is, we – I – have no defined goal. It’s more like a drawing … yes. I’m being drawn in a direction.

Funny. I’m in no hurry to get there – no hurry at all. I think I’m with a traveling company of gypsies. Don’t laugh. They are kind to me and pleasant – Hungarian or Russian, I think. And that’s fine. I like Hungarians and Russians. As people groups they are fatalistic, melancholy, and maybe as a result they are giving and warmly funny.


Julie tells me I’m dreaming a movie. Could be. The wagon I’m in is certainly something out of a 1930’s movie. But it feels so real. And the time feels like the 1930’s as well – somewhen between the world wars.


Last night was cool and blanket dark. After the horses were tethered and fed, someone built a roaring campfire. From a distance I could hear a mournful violin, and see the shadowy form of someone dancing around the fire. The scene became more and more surreal until I could no longer define what I was looking at.

Today I was cleaning out a cabinet in my den, and in one drawer I found a bell.

I waited.


Anticipating.

2 comments:

Julie M said...

I love this... Talk about a jumping off place for the imagination to take over! If you don't put it in your movie, I may steal it for my new one.

How many horses are pulling the wagon?

Kaleidoscope said...

So help me understand. This was one dream or a series? The images are beautiful, haunting. Who wouldn't want to be included in a kindly band of gypsies, to be drawn onward "in a direction" by a an apparently benevolent force, to be dancing around a campfire accompanied by a mournful violin? Well, I guess I can think of a few acquaintances who wouldn't leap at such an opportunity, but it appeals to me. But then, remember that I am the Queen of Escape. I love the pictures, too. Thanks, Bob. Nancy G