It was one of those mornings when a half hour or so before it was time to get up, I fell into a REM dream and overslept by 20 minutes or so. For unknown reasons, my clock radio currently makes a little “click” when the alarm goes off instead of saying things like, “President Trump fired James Comey yesterday” or whatever. Yes, I really did wake up to that sentence one morning back when my clock radio was still tuned to an NPR station and/or the volume was turned up to an audible level. I don’t usually need the clock radio to wake up but I didn’t do it on my own this morning.

This particular REM dream featured some horrible shoreline scenarios complete with a cameo appearance by the Dogwitch, someone who for reasons I can’t fathom, rarely haunts my dreams.

Anyway, this is the shoreline I dream about albeit not the best pic. There is approximately 2/3 of a mile of this. I have spent every summer (or parts thereof) on this shoreline my entire life. I can literally remember being about five months old, lying on the back seat of our old black Ford vee-hickle listening to the susurration of the pine trees as we turned onto Birch Point Road, which was then gravel. To me, that sound has always meant “we’re almost at the cabin”.

All of us who can call the moominbeach home have had the dream that a lake freighter comes on the wrong side of the island. I also have always had other, more complicated dreams. The scariest of all was the morning of 9-11 when I dreamed 9-11. Something with fire and planes and emergency vehicles was happening at the Doelle end of the beach and yes it was a prescient dream although I didn’t connect the dots until days later.

More often than not, my shoreline dreams are simply elaborate rearrangements of the terrain. Canals or islands or bays where there are no canals or islands or bays. Weird changes in water depth. Once an inland lake (Lake Ann it was, without the “e”, go figger), where there is only swamp and “we” were fighting a war there in my dream. When encroaching development began to threaten our previously isolated community, the dreams started to include houses and stores and concrete roads and sidewalks.

This morning’s iteration featured excavation equipment dredging a huge water reservoir (?) that stretched from the Doelle end of the beach to immediately east of Bill’s Birch Point Beach Bank Bench in front of the moomincabin. Someone was building their daughter a mansion. People were milling all over the place and I kept asking other residents why they had sold out. Other than me, no one seemed to care. “Oh, he’s building his daughter a house because he loves her.” Really?

I won’t talk about the screaming match I had with an aforementioned character but it attracted a lot of attention and my unglued behavior did not endear me to anyone. And then all of a sudden I was inside the *bank*, of all places (my childhood bank, where my dad and granddaddy worked), using the bathroom to apply some extremely complicated eye makeup that involved lake freighters. You do NOT wanna know!

And then, thank you jeebus, I woke up! It was late and there was a wee bit of lightning so I did not walk. Fortunately the day improved from there. We had a work function this afternoon of the social sort and I was dreading it. We are all nerdy introverts, can anyone say awkward? But it was okay. FZ and I found a seat and others joined us and a variable group of us ended up kibitzing for several hours. By that time it was late enough in the day to trundle home.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 20th, 2018 at 4:30 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.