dreams to dream
Tuesday, Sept. 16, 2008 @ 1:04 a.m.

six months of darkness were heralded by a sudden change of colour in our valley. variations of the same muted yellow remain where green has drained from the forest. autumn in this place is not a season, it's a snap decision mother nature made while i was sleeping last night. the components of fall are present as they have always been in the past, but without the gradual onset i've become accustomed to. autumn should be familiar and comfortable. i should settle into it with a good book, a warm sweater and a cup of tea. i imagine i'd like to turn the clock back fourteen hours to where summer lingered and try to see the signs of the change before they have a chance to startle me in the morning, or at least to allow me time to put on the kettle, to don my sweater and find a better literary companion than myself, here on the internet at diaryland.

but not all good change is slow change, as last night's dreams served to illustrate. and so i have decided to cast some of my more fanatically traditional opinions of what i should like and should be and should do away...and straight out into the night.

i was sitting on a dock with my back to the water and a camera in my left hand, stretching my arm out over the river to take a picture of the shore that would be unobstructed by the dock. as i did i saw a boy on the rocks with another camera, snapping pictures of the dock as he ran onto it. his parents were behind him, shouting for to him to stop and that he would break the camera or fall into the water if he wasn't careful. to be helpful, i asked him to give me the camera as he ran down the dock toward me. he grinned and i missed as he threw it in my direction. we watched as it slid over the edge of the dock and into the river.

his parents were frantic. they demanded that i dive in and retrieve the camera. obligingly, i removed my shoes and stood over the water. i watched the camera sink until it was almost out of view, spinning as it was tugged by the current sideways and down. for a moment, i paused. i knew that if i did this -- if i dove into the swirling black water for any reason, even to retrieve something i didn't care at all about -- that i would be swallowed-up. i would die.

without another thought, and almost by mistake, i dove headfirst into the river.

'a promise is a promise' was a book that my mother insisted on reading to me when i was small, and the first few seconds of being underwater reminded me of the spirits of the lake in that book. they used to terrify me. every night, i would hallucinate that they surrounded me while i lay in bed, chanting 'a promise is a promise. a promise is a promise.' and i would silently pray the only prayer i knew until my paralyzed heart was too tired to frighten my body into staying awake. the first few seconds of being underwater in my dream were like that, but differently from ever before (and almost immediately) i realized that i could be comfortable with the spirits. the icy water where we were was strangely and vividly beautiful -- a landscape of shredded silk ebbing and flowing with the current like northern lights, enveloping me and keeping me warm.

i knew that there would be no returning to the surface, and i was content to stay in the river. i let go, and reveled in the few perfect moments i had in my unlikely paradise.

almost at that very second, i woke to see the light streaming in through the window. illuminating a shockingly yellow tree. it might have been enough by comparison to the deep, dark greens and blues of my dream to surprise me into wakefulness. instead, another quiet moment passed, the wind slipping through the leaves and away to the valley as it always does. a new season has blown in, bringing as much change as certainty. this time, it seems to have brought a calmer and more accepting version of my former self with it as well. nothing to fear. nothing to doubt.

at least, not today. but i'll see if that holds true after tonight's dreams.