I do not often remember my dreams, or perhaps I just dont dream very often, either way, recently, upon waking, my ability to recollect what has been taking place inside my head whilst I sleep has much improved. A dream I had four nights ago when sleeping on a friends floor in Nottingham has stuck with me and I feel compelled to document it in some way, and since I've been meaning to write something or other on this blog, said dream seems like a good place to start.
The horizon was as beautiful as I have ever seen it, reminding me of some of the sunsets when I was in Goa, full of purples and oranges, it was one of those rare sights that did not instil within me a longing for more, for something else past that distant point. A horizon that could only be created in the mind.
I was living in a house that overlooked the sea, perhaps the Arabian Sea, and as I walked out onto the decking I was greeted by the overwhelming visual spectacle of hundreds upon hundreds of jet skies all just sat there on the water, their engines running.
You may think the auditory counterpart of this phenomenon would be distinctly unpleasant and contradict such a peaceful scene as I had described up until the discovery of the jet skies, and usually I would be in full agreement with you, but it seems that the vibration, the sonority of these hundreds of machines in the Arabian Sea, had somehow created a vacuum around the house, and I could not hear anything. The vibrations moving through the water and the air made the house shake in such a resonant and utterly relaxing manner. Upon realising I was 'stuck' inside this utopian vacancy, I awoke.
(Pictures: Ynyslas, Ceredigion, 5:30am)