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She visited a friend whose brother was celebrating a birthday, though she never learned his age. Mid- to late- thirties, she thought he was. To honor the occasion, the brother had orchestrated a full music and dance show, directing his friends as well as hired performers in a musical fete.
She sat on a bench near the front. The performance took place in a sunny meadow, which, having been recently mown, smelled of green grass stems.
A group of eight singers came first. Wearing vaguely Elizabethan dress, they sang (oh, so beautifully and in such delicious harmonies) a medley of Shakespearean songs, beginning and ending with "O mistress mine, where are you roaming?" As they sang they leaned in to each other and then varied the arrangement, forming a fluid series of delightful living tableaux.
And then dancers appeared in the background, costumed individually but similarly, in earthen tones. They danced with simple steps and with much energy, at one point moving sideways in a line before her as they stared intently into her eyes.
She awoke remembering colors and smells and ethereal sounds that she hoped would accompany her throughout her waking day.
Can a dream simply be, and not be forced to carry a meaning?
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
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