I often dream of cities, of wandering down roads and streets and alleys, looking at different buildings as I pass under their shadows.
There are no people, at least not many, in my dreams. This is something I am thankful for. It is bad enough having to deal with people while I am awake without having to do so as well in the Land of Nod.
I have had these dreams for years now. There are no changes to the details, no major plot twists. There is a cathedral which has a star-shaped ditch, lined with granite blocks, around it. Lots of hills covered with grass and trees and the occasional squirrle (sometimes it is a fountain). Railway stations and rivers often appear. The trains are just trains, the path by the river usually overgrown with grass or trees or triffids.
I love these dreams. I feel more at home in my imaginary cities than I do in the city I currently inhabit.
I think that my dreams must seem boring to other people but for me they are adventures, explorations, excitement.
The typical flying dream sometimes happens in the cities. You know the one; the one where you tuck your legs up underneath you and, somehow, this allows you to fly. The classical foetus/womb dream. I never fly too high though because if I do, I always get stuck over some steep hill or gully or river.
I am never scared in these dreams. Although I was once chased by people (I survived, you’ll be glad to know).
No deep meaning to this blog. Just sharing.