Tuesday, 22 January 2019

Two Dreams: Very Berry and the connection between two worlds


Very Berry

In this dream Em and I had just bought a farm, but at the start of the dream I am not entirely sure what the farm is like. We get the keys and drive to the farm, pulling up at the farmhouse in the late afternoon. The light is gentle and it’s not too hot (unlike recent times!)

The farmhouse is quite old – a greyish wooden house with a triangular roof, not unlike those rustic barns one sees in lifestyle magazines. Inside it is slightly musty but quite clean. We drop our bags on the counter and run out into the field.

What will we discover? I think as we run into the field.

Strawberries. We are surrounded by strawberries as far as the eye can see. Neat rows of strawberry vines stretch marvelously in all directions. The fruit they bear are an incredible hue of mature red, glistening in the low sun and inviting us to eat them. We pick one after the other, stuffing them into our mouths and relishing their sweetness. They have such an intense concentrated flavour like those supermaret strawberries could never have. Each berry bursts in the mouth filling us with ecstasy. Red juices run down our chins and stain our shirts, but we don’t care. In a moment we have eaten countless strawberries.

What a fantastic idea it is to buy a strawberry farm!

We return to the farmhouse on a high and congratulate ourselves on our excellent purchase. On the big wooden table is a stack of stationery, and we see that the stationery is for the farm. The name of the farm is Very Berry (what a great name for a farm! We marvel) but the spelling is quite different with varying numbers of Ys

Veryyy Berryyyy
Veryyyyy Berryyyyyyyy
Veryy Berryy

Any number of conflicting Ys are on all the stationery and we ponder which one is the real one. Then I wake up.



---------------------------------------
Between Two Worlds

This is a deep, dark and dense dream.

At the beginning, I am in a carpark with P. We have driven there in a car that neither of us own, and that I don’t recognise. We get out of the car and the air is eerily still. For a carpark, there seem to be no cars coming or going.

A thought flashes across my mind that we are here to look for the entrance to the other world. (Possibly I have been reading too much Murakami again)

We look for this entrance but neither of us have any idea what it looks like. We walk up and down the ramps, but other than a few cars parked here and there resting silently, there is no clue to the other world. Suddenly we hear a big group of people coming down the ramp from the level above us, and we crouch down behind a ute to observe them.

The leader calls out Everyone! Join hands and call out your numbers!

There are perhaps 30 people there, and they come from all corners of the carpark towards us. We step out from behind the ute and try to blend in as leisurely as we can manage. Paul is on my left and I join hands with him, and with another man on my right. Each person in the circle says out a random number, and we both make up numbers (I can’t remember what I said)

Then, as suddenly as they came, the group dispersed and it is just the two of us again in the carpark. The silence is still eerie but the density of the atmosphere has changed, and that is when I know we have already crossed into the other world.

We walk out of the carpark, keen to explore the world. There is a fence just in front so we jump it – I am surprised by my own strength as I would never be able to jump a fence in real life. I look back at the 2m-ish fence, wondering how I got to the other side. I jump several more fences and realise that we are in a highly suburban area, most of the houses having neat lawns and trampolines or playsets. Some of the fences have sharp edges but that doesn’t seem to bother me either.

I jump a dozen fences or so and realise that in the meantime I have lost P. In the distance I can hear a throng of people again, though I can’t see them or which direction they are coming from. I am filled with this sense of dread that they are the same people who have realised that we are invading their world.

I jump another fence and see a huge house with a single huge rectangular window at the rear of the house. It seems to be a huge glass window which has been concertinaed so that Em is sitting on the wooden ledge. The aperture the window leaves draws one to it. I get closer to it and can see that it is an ordinary house inside – a row of hooks with coats are by the front door.

She is sitting with her legs drawn up on the ledge, and she says to me with some sense of urgency: You must come back into this world, quick! This window is the way!

The wooden ledge is only chest height, and I would be able to reach it easily in real life. But no matter how hard I try and how much she tries to help me, I cannot get my feet off the ground more than a few seconds at a time. I try to run up to it, jump up to it, sidle up on my rear… no matter what I try, I cannot get onto the windowsill, the connection to the real world.

The voices come closer, and for a moment I wonder, which is the real world?
Then I wake up.