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Friday, May 20, 2011

Dreaming in color


I have dreams that are set at my old summer camp sometimes.  There is always lots of vivid green.  At Glastonbury Abbey, in an old enclosed kitchen area, I was hit with the familiar cedar cabin scent, of earth and dust.  Childhood is such a short little time, but those little moments stick with you, they stick with you good.  Will there be moments from my twenties that, when I am older, will instantly snap back to me when I walk into a room with a certain scent, a street with light slanting through the branches of trees in a just-so way?  What will be in my dreams then?  Or will it still be my childhood summers, rolling on and on, infinite waves in my psyche?

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