It has been a long winter. Even for a snow bunny like me who likes very much to make tracks in fresh powder.
Lately, I’ve even stopped running in the mornings in favor of walking/running on a treadmill. It’s cold. And icy. And we’re on snow/ice storm #10…110 of the season in Manhappiness.
No surprise to have dreamt of a warm and sunny garden where the soil smells of life and the birds dive bomb bugs flittering about. Except this dream kept coming. Keeps coming. Even in waking, I see three parts of it. So here it is:
Imagine the morning sun beginning its vinyasa over a cozy garden ringed by trees. It is a riot – a fractal – of color. Order only seen from above. Sheets flutter on a clothesline nearby and all but the bugs and wind are quiet.
I am asked a question, “What does love look like?” I lay stretched out on a blanket in the grass – post-run maybe – and I cannot conjure what love looks like – how to explain it.
Then someone comes and pours water from an old glass pitcher onto a tender shoot of a tree. A kid-of-a-tree just learning to reach past the dirt to grow. The pitcher is backlit by morning sun. As the water is poured, orange sunlight is refracted through the pour and onto the plant. The sapling is nourished by both water and the mystery of sun light passing through hydrogen and oxygen arranged just so.
The dream either ends here or shifts and I see the same tender shoot in what must be midsummer. Someone has carefully created a circular trench and dam wide around the growing tree. I’m guessing this is to focus that precious water into the roots and not have it disperse into the parched earth around it. Scorched earth. Sun beaten. Tired.
Finally, a third image arises – though not every time. It begins with a wide view of the patch of garden where that little tree lives. The ground is hard packed with snow and ice. A hand moves a stray leaf back onto what is mulch – dying plants – carefully packed around the base of the tree to give it life. There is no autumn image. Only these three.
Since the dreaming of this sun-filled pitcher has begun, I’ve revisited it when feeling stressed, sad or forgotten by the universe.
I can’t explain the peace it brings. And I almost want to apologize for how sappy it is.
But this dream of a garden in summer and beyond has brought me peace in this discontenting winter.
I hope it brings you peace, too. And wonder.
#AdventureAndWonder friends. Everywhere. All the time.