image pulled from web.
Right before I woke up, I dreamt I was in a marketplace. My friend Kelly was in one of the stall shops selling bunches of white cyclamen. The flowers were a bit fuller than cyclamen actually are in real life. They resembled the thickness of a tulip. The stems were long and leafless and they were cut.
The flowers were beautiful and plentiful. I would be taking some home.
The European-feeling market was on Austin Street, the street that had all the shops on it in my old neighborhood. In real life, the area was struck by a tornado a couple of days ago. One person was killed, my brother says it was a miracle that more people weren't. A friend from Hunter posted on Facebook that her parents, her mother specifically, had a very close call. Another friend from Hunter posted a photo of a downed very old, very big willow tree in the front yard of the apartment building of yet another Hunter friend whose mother still lives in the building. My sister and brother-in-law's parked car, which was empty at the time, sustained a shattered windshield and dented hood from a very large falling branch.
I don't 'do' mainstream media for the most part. I never watch the news on tv. So I have been sheltered from the clamor of images and sound bites. But, clearly, Forest Hills is in my thoughts.
Two interesting dream details:
• I walked by quite a bit of food in the market and though it all looked delicious, I didn't eat anything. The flowers felt like my destination.
• I started my journey in the lobby of an apartment building which was a combination/permutation of the lobbies of my sister and brother's apartment buildings. (Both live in the old neighborhood an easy walk to the location of the marketplace.) As I walked through, I saw another friend from Hunter, but one who has no connection to the old neighborhood that I know of. This friend was seated at a large dark wood table (my sister's lobby features a lot of dark old wood...it's a beautiful old building). We both glanced at each other and I left.
2 comments:
What a nice way for me to show up in your dreams! Of course, in dreams, the people whose faces we see are often actually someone else, so we can't be sure it was really me, can we? ;-)
Still, white Cyclamen. That kind of sounds like me.
I'm glad all your friends are alright.
Sweet dreams ...
I didn't know that...that the faces we see aren't 'who' they really are, in dreams. That seems so...mysterious!
It makes sense, too. I mean, I think 'you' were a representation of something rather than the true you (or who you are for me, at least).
But, I do remember feeling happy to see a familiar face. Maybe the dream was showing me the knowledge you offer me about myself, through your friendship to me.
You recently helped me get through some massive emotional chaos with some simple, yet profound words and thoughts.
:-)
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