THE SPINNING

DREAM WHEEL

Here is a continuation of our ongoing, open forum for the sharing of dreams of any sort. If you have had a dream that can stand on its own, please send it in. The Spinning Dream Wheel will gradually reflect what is being dreamed.

I am walking with a woman across a point of land, winding along a path through a sunny countryside. The woman walks casually just behind me and to my right so that she is never clearly in focus. She is wearing white, loose pants and a green shirt. Though I never see her face as we walk, her presence is strongly felt. Together, we wind upwards toward the mountaintop.

Glaring light glints off sharp rocks; lizards shoot quickly across the path, pausing under small, barbed plants. The sky is bright and endless—where it meets the ocean, a broad band of yellow haze obscures the lines of definition.

The climb is effortless, the ground and its angles growing soft underneath our feet. The mountaintop is a sharp lip against the sky, rock meeting air in a kiss. We pull ourselves up the last few feet on our stomachs, clutching the lip's edge with our fingertips. Wind hits our faces as we peer over the side. We have a view of a Mediterranean landscape—silver-leafed olive groves tucked in curves of land which roll off to the ocean, flocks of birds far below float from light to dark over fields of yellow and green squares.

At the ocean's edge sits a castle of gray stone, turreted and moated, stark and alluring in a medieval way. We see that to reach the castle, we must retrace some steps down the mountain, then traverse the side to reach the valley below. We arrive shortly at the castle. We do not pause, but walk directly around the walls of the castle where gardens make way for a circular clearing and  patio in  the rear.  The  clearing  surrounds