Saturday, March 16, 2019

Bad Dream 57 -- Morning of 3/16/19

In my dream, I am walking around in a "park."  It's a very large space with frontage on a large body of water (lake? ocean? don't know, but the water itself is quite calm).  The air is pleasantly warm and it's sunny, but the sun doesn't glare at any point through the dream.

There are some buildings on this park and gentle "hills," really, just rises and declines on the ground.  Lots of grass and well maintained dirt walkways.  You could hardly ask for a more pleasant day or location.  

There are no amusement rides here and seemingly no special buildings (museum, theater, etc.) but people seem to be happy just walking around on such a lovely day.  People tend to be walking in pairs wearing Edwardian-style clothes, but I am by myself.  Looking at them is remindful of photos taken during that era.  

I don't know why I am so depressed, but the loveliness around me may only increase my feeling of depression.  Or perhaps loneliness.  I find myself sitting on the grass on a slight rise with the water before me.  

I'm concerned that we (whoever "we" are...) arrived on a bus that will be taking us back (to wherever "back" is...) and I don't know when the bus will be leaving.  But missing the bus would create a serious transportation problem.

I take out my harmonica and remember how I played years ago -- and the reason I tell myself that I stopped playing.  I start playing and the music is lyrical, soaring high into the upper octave of the instrument without missing a single beat or note.  I don't think I've ever played that sweetly or that sadly.  But the music alleviates to a certain amount the depression that I feel.  Regardless of anything else, I can still play and touch someone's heart with my music.  And feel a bit wistful that there's no one around to hear me.   (The word in my notes at this point is "solace.") 

I get up and start walking back to the parking lot.  Which means walking between some of the buildings -- all of which are multi-story and look as if they were built many years ago but are still in great shape.  

I am hoping that the driver of the bus is still close to the vehicle so that I can ask what time we're leaving.  To get to the parking lot, I have to walk out the entry passageway and am concerned for a moment that I might not be able to get back in.  But then I remember that I'm wearing a thin plastic strip on my wrist that identifies me as being allowed to go in and out whenever I want.  

The dream changes so that I don't leave or get to the parking lot.  I never see the bus or chat with the driver.  

I am now sitting at a table with two other people.  One of them is kind of "in charge," and the other two of us are sitting with our cameras (both DSLR's) on the table.  The other camera guy gets up and leaves, taking his camera with him.  The other guy says something very complimentary about my camera -- especially in comparison with the other fellow's camera.  

I feel good about what he's just said.  Justified in having the camera and pleased/proud of it.  

But it doesn't touch my feeling of melancholy.  And I am still concerned about finding out when the bus is leaving for home (wherever and whatever "home" is...)  

(I think there may have been more to the dream, but that's the end of my notes.)

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