I was running around Iqaluit doing ridiculous errands (the types of things that don't even make an ounce of sense once fully awake) and the sky was grey and the snow was coming down in bathtubs. The snow was unrelenting and really coarse, like tiny throwing-stars. The flakes kept getting bigger too, and started to impede me from the things I needed to do. By the end of the dream, every grain of snow had become the size of a daisy, and looked like them too, except for the monotonous white colouring.
I woke up, snowblinded.
I pretty much hate winter, what with the cold and the darkness (not good for a Northerner, I know) and took the dream as an omen.
The room was cold, and I rolled around in bed for a lot longer than I should have, which is the norm. Eventually, guilt led me out of the warm pocket of air crafted between mattress and blanket.
Wiping the fog from my eyes, through the window, I noticed the fog outside, and the ubiquitous white on the ground, tops of buildings, roofs of cars, fading into the sea. About a three-inch layer of snow covered the city, the first real snowfall of the year (or the first time the Earth hadn't rejected the white stuff).
Seriously? Snow? Had I woken up in the middle of the night and unknowingly seen this, thus influencing the dream? Or (remember, I'm still very much asleep and full of magical thoughts) had I dreamt this snow into existence?
Still in a daze, and because my dream had climatized me to the season, I walked to work, soaking my sneakers, making my feet stinky(er), and allowed the nostalgia of winter to splash over me. I love walking through the snow in warm weather. Reminded me of BC ski towns, and hot springs, and primetime schoolyard snowball fights and all the things to look forward to for the next eight months. Basically, I was all about winter with a good connotation this morning.
Got to work and Carolyn said she and her boyfriend had both dreamt of snow the night before, too. Bizarre.
Of course, the snow didn't last. As the mercury slowly pushed past zero, the snow disappeared first on streets and then on paths where people walked and eventually from the entire lower city, and then receded gradually up the hills.
That was immaterial, though. The point was taken and the lesson learned.
No better way to wake up to winter, than to dream of a blizzard and awake to bliss.
Tonight, I think I'll dream about Amerie, or Zooey Deschanel, or Allison Stokke, or Obama in the White House.
Still in a daze, and because my dream had climatized me to the season, I walked to work, soaking my sneakers, making my feet stinky(er), and allowed the nostalgia of winter to splash over me. I love walking through the snow in warm weather. Reminded me of BC ski towns, and hot springs, and primetime schoolyard snowball fights and all the things to look forward to for the next eight months. Basically, I was all about winter with a good connotation this morning.
Got to work and Carolyn said she and her boyfriend had both dreamt of snow the night before, too. Bizarre.
Of course, the snow didn't last. As the mercury slowly pushed past zero, the snow disappeared first on streets and then on paths where people walked and eventually from the entire lower city, and then receded gradually up the hills.
That was immaterial, though. The point was taken and the lesson learned.
No better way to wake up to winter, than to dream of a blizzard and awake to bliss.
Tonight, I think I'll dream about Amerie, or Zooey Deschanel, or Allison Stokke, or Obama in the White House.
Probably the image I'll wake up to tomorrow morning: "Look, I'm sorry..."
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