The rheumatologist started me on some new medication. Thus far, the side effects are less bad than the condition the drug is supposed to treat. One side effect is vivid dreams. I already have fairly vivid dreams and the extra vividness is stunning. I'm not looking forward to dreaming about digital signal processing. However, this morning's dreams did not include homework, but rather my cat Sparky, who had climbed into bed after his unsuccessful, 6:30 a.m. attempt to wake me. Here's my favorite:
Beneath a crystalline desert sky, I lean against a tree that is not leafy but still shades me. I am wrapped in a blue sleeping bag and holding Sparky who is asleep. I know this isn't real because I am warm and far more comfortable than I should be; Sparky weighs fifteen pounds and wiggles when he's held. I look out over a Dadaist plain of flat orange clay. In the foreground, a small group of men with pickaxes work on a railroad. They hack away at the clay lying between the railroad ties. In the middle distance stand jagged, triangular hills of a breathtaking dark blue. The hills aren't far enough away to be that blue, which seems to be the color of the trees and the earth. When I look at the hills directly, the color fades, so I watch the men at work and content myself with gazing at the hills from the corner of my eye.
And then suddenly I'm riding a bicycle in the rain, still holding the cat, and the bicycle gets taller and I can't reach the pedals anymore. Typical dream stuff. But that plain with the blue hills—I can't get it out of my head.
286 words | April 25, 2004 08:06 PM | Real true story