Sunday Scribblings: #50 - Dream Journey

I always wanted to Sunday Scribble. And this week’s scribbling challenge happened to be two of my favorites; Dream! and Journey! :) Actually I’m supposed to write about my dream journey, but I think I’m gonna twist it a little (to suit my convenience) and make it “A journey in my dream”. So go on and read it (if you can make it to the end, that is) and do comment. :)

My earliest memories of a dream journey was someplace in the English countryside. I absolutely hate the Americas and hated everything to do with living there. If there is a journey I always would like to take (either in the near or far future), it HAS to be a calm, serene, country side…umm… alongside the sea maybe. Alright, here’s my first attempt at scribbling.

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Last night …

… I dreamt that I was atop a cliff, more like a last bit of a hill that one could reach to. I was standing a good five feet away from the edge of what could be at least a 200 km drop into the crevice below. Ahead, was another tall rock, which appeared to be much too close to the one I was standing on. This one had a hard, almost round rock above it that looked like it would topple off the edge any moment. The rock looked dark on it base and bright and shiny on top; the result of enduring the stiff hard stormy winds on itself perhaps during the winter and the harsh rays of the sun during the warmer days. Even whilst standing there trying to get an idea of where exactly I’ve landed, I found myself slowly rocking back and forth without my own might along with the wind; my hair ever so slightly caressing my face.

I took a few steps forward to try and get a glimpse of what lay beneath. The sun wasn’t bright enough and I had to squint my eyes to get a clear picture of what looked like thick bushes in a deep green colour or black. I shivered and instantly stepped back to what I thought was a much safer distance from the edge of the cliff, when I realized that I wasn’t actually reeling from the shock of looking down, but had shivered because of the chill. Quite strangely, I was not wearing warm clothes to keep me from the chill. I proceeded thence, to wrap my hands around me in a hug, to brace myself against the winds, still wondering what brought me there. On an impulse, I looked up and found soft cotton clouds being hurried from one mountain peak to another by the strong winds. The clouds, each racing against the other, as though, hastening ahead to greedily clutch the next summit ever so tenderly, with their soft fluffy arms; each time, letting it go, and rushing to the next.

My uncertainty about where I was standing then, remained unsolved even as I turned around with much apprehension to see where the narrow path lead to. The path looked like it had been traveled upon very sparingly. I took it either ways, because I considered that there couldn’t have been any other way I would’ve gotten up here.

On either side of the long winding narrow path were tall eucalyptus trees and thick unkempt short plants of what appeared to be wild rose bushes. I could have stopped by and picked one of those flowers, but didn’t. My mind a whirlwind, I ignored them, even as they appeared to be greatly tempting. Each time I took a turn, I desired to make a fortunate discovery of land, of a clearing, where I should find an explanation. As the road gradually sloped downward, and my disappointment mounting to its peak, I found that the trees started to decline in number and tall grass took its place. Further down, the path had the impression of being taken by many, through the years.

Abruptly, as though someone were listening to my heart’s call, the grass around me cleared and I could see a tiny stone cottage in the distance. I could tell that it is being inhabited by the steady smoke coming from the chimney. I took shorter quicker steps toward the cottage; and as I neared it, I realized that it wasn’t as small as it appeared to be. The cottage itself was buried deep inside a large garden surrounded by white fence. The huge iron gates were kept open, as though telling me that I should get in at once. I tried to ignore the garden once again as did I at the mountain path and hurried through the neatly kept wide pathway; wide enough for a car or two to comfortably steer through. The roses caught my attention once again, as this time the flowers were neatly maintained, watered and looked fresh and delicate. The right side of the garden was filled with bright yellow roses dotted with white ones in between.



As I was standing there taking in the beauty of the flowers, the sound of someone talking brought me back to reality with a yank. I quickly turned around to find a 6 foot tall man dressed all in white blocking the door frame of the cottage. He must have said a little Good Afternoon which I didn't notice. He was smiling at me, almost like a grin and said “Your roses are glad to have you back, Madam!”

My eyes opened wide and it took me a few seconds to realize that he was in fact talking to me. Bewildered, I looked down at the roses once again, not wanting to look him in the eye; lest he might find the confusion on my face. “Your tea is ready to be served, Madam. Would you rather have it in the library?” he continued.

Continuing to feel like Alice in her little wonderland, for the first time since that afternoon at the mountain top, I spoke “Yes, yes I will”. He waited for me to make my move, and when I finally didn’t, he continued “The weather is blustery outside Madam. If I were you, I shan’t stay there. You should perhaps step inside”. Saying so, he stepped aside from the doorway, letting me in.

The hallway was made in grey and I was fully aware of the awkward clunky noise my shoes made against the hard wood floor. I continued behind the butler to the living room stepping into the plush carpet. If he was frustrated of the fact that I was walking on the expensive carpet with my soiled shoes still on, nothing of the disapproval showed on his face. Not allowing him to start another conversation, I quickly stepped out of my shoes and clumsily stepped into the carpet, letting my toes sink deep into it. There was a large ornate coffee table in the middle, with two low long couches around it.

For the first time since that afternoon, the hair on my nape settled back and my neck muscles relaxed involuntarily. Before I could look around the room any further, the butler showed me to the library and stepped away. The fireplace inside the library was set; and thick huge logs were burning inside it. I was grateful for the warmth that lapped on me; which instantly reminded me of the cold winds on the hill top. I brought my thoughts back to the room where I was standing and tried to concentrate, taking in each item, trying to figure out if I remembered anything about this room. I looked around the room in silence; the thick light-blue curtains against the windows were drawn. Books were stacked from floor to ceiling; the carpet a different colour now, I couldn’t remember what colour the carpet was in the living room. There were two comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace; its cushions that looked like it had been recently sat upon. The corners of the room were dotted with ornate souvenirs. At the far end of the room, there was a writing desk and a high straight-backed chair. A man was sitting on the chair and writing something on a paper with a long slender pen on his right hand. His left hand held down the paper on the blotter. I couldn’t see anymore of his tall figure and took a few steps in front to get a better view…

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… and then, I woke up from my dream! Aaah! I sooo wish I were able to see who he was though ;) but hey; what the hell; so much for imagination! I’ve stretched it as much I as I could! :-D

OK maybe it’s not a dream journey; it appears to be a lot like a dream destination huh?! :D

Thanks to the ladies at Sunday Scribblings! :) I’m gonna try and be a regular.

Picture Courtesy: Google