Memories of a Strange Dream

My, how time flies. It's been over two weeks since I last posted here, which is hardly the pace I would prefer to be setting. Since the latest essay I've started is incomplete (in fact I haven't gotten past the introducory paragraph), I'm posting something completely different. The following is a brief recounting of a vivid (though imperfectly remembered) dream that I had. Both the dream and the description of it date back to 2001. I have left it in its original form.

The other night I had a strange dream. I dreamed that the world was completely covered with water. Whether it had happened suddenly or was a gradual process I'm not sure, though my impression is that it was sudden. As I recall, I myself was suddenly underwater, a deep blue-green sea covering me and all the surrounding land. I barely had time to feel short of breath, however, before an unknown force lifted me clear out of the water.

I broke the surface of the ocean with a great splash. As I rose high into the air, I felt my fear of heights rising up within me. But I also felt a feeling of exhilaration as I sped through the air above the waves, carried still by the unknown force. And I was distracted from my fear by what I saw. I realized that not everything had been covered by water after all. There was a mountain range rising out of the ocean, covered still by green grass and trees, though all around was blue water. How high the mountains had been before the waters rose I had no idea, but they still were of considerable height, and I flew at their feet. Yet the air around me was warm, and my impression is that even at the peaks, the mountains themselves were not cold. The feeling was almost like a summer day, with green and blue below me and a blue sky with white clouds above.

Even the mountains were forgotten, however, after I saw what lay at their feet near the water's edge, just below me as I flew. There was a city, or at least some tall buildings, still standing. There were half a dozen or more skyscrapers, but they were scattered about on a level grassy area, with no immediate sign of paved streets (or people) between them. Furthermore, the buildings themselves had an otherworldly appearance. Though they resembled in form the steel and glass structures I was familiar with, they were of a reddish brown color and indeed looked as if they were made of stucco or some similar substance. It was as if they had been transformed completely into what looked like life-sized models of skyscrapers, made by some giant out of red clay. It occurs to me now that it was a little like they had been rusted through, but there was no sign of the crumbling appearance that goes with rusted metal. In fact, they were perfect and whole in appearance, and even now I can see in my mind the architecture of the building I was closest to (it resembled somewhat the Chrysler Building in New York, having a pointed top and arched, ornamental windows).

Still feeling the fear and exhilaration of flying with no visible means of support, I neared the ground at the feet of the buildings. I have some memory of seeing something on the grassy space below me as I descended, perhaps an overgrown fountain or statue or something of that sort. But before I reached it I woke up.

What if anything this dream means I'll probably never know. I don't believe that dreams are predictive, but perhaps what I saw was what subconsciously I imagine as the fate of a world overtaken by global warming. No doubt what images I still retain will soon fade. This is unfortunate, because together those strange stucco skyscrapers on those green mountains surrounded by that endless blue ocean make up one of the most dramatic scenes I've ever laid eyes on, asleep or awake.