Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I lay on a carpet of grass, each blade tickling my shoulders. I am wearing a sun dress that is spread out at the bottom, pairing white lace with the deepest of greens. My ankles are crossed and my hands are behind my head comfortably. Looking up, the sky is so blue, I thirst for it. Bursts of white flow by seamlessly, each a different image than the one before.
Elephants holding tails in a line, a rabbit on his hind feet sniffing the air, ships with magnificent masts catching the wind, all can be found in the silent movie above me. I turn my head to the right and see a dandelion, how can I resist sending natures ballerinas into flight, one quick breath, and I watch until every last seed pod has vanished, each cultivating new growth.
I sit up and notice a carpet of blooms layered on a hill. They are a deep pink resembling the crunch berries in the Capn' Crunch cereal I love so much. I walk towards them imagining a milk slide flowing down the hill through the blooms. Clumsily, I fall, slipping quickly, splashing all the way to the bottom where warm air hits my face.
When I turn around, I am on a beach, waves lapping at my bare feet, sand covering my painted toes. With the wind blowing through my hair, I savor the taste of salt in my mouth while counting 30 paces to the East. At the end of my paces I stare down at an "X" in the sand.
Dropping to my knees, I begin feverishly digging, throwing sand in every direction, until I feel the treasure chest on my finger tips. Pulling with all my might, I fall back laughing. I don't stay down long as the prize beckons me from within the chest. Slowly taking the key, that had been hanging on a thin chain around my neck , I open the chest and sit staring in wonder at the contents.
There are dresses, hats and gaudy jewelry, all from a different time in history, laying neatly in piles. I am now in my grandmothers attic. The hardwood floors are scratchy on my feet which still show remnants of a beach walk. I pull a dress over my head and see myself transformed into a flapper girl doing the Charleston in front of a huge free standing wood mirror.
The music in my head plays loud, but, in the mirrors reflection, I notice the window behind me. It is round and just big enough for me to fit through. I look out of it to see the stars flashing brighter than I have ever seen before. They are calling for me to dance with them. The room transforms into a rocket, buttons, lights and levers of no distinction crowd every surface.
I open the window and climb out to experience the light show. I am floating freely in the darkness littered with fantastic sparkles and specks, swirling and swooping in all directions. I close my eyes and open my mouth, the stars fall in , cool on my tongue.
I look around now to a world swallowed by white sheets. I am catching the snow in my mouth laughing. I lay down to make a perfect snow angel, but it is not taking shape. The wonderful smell of disturbed grass excites me. Staring up into the blue once more, counting cloud sheep, I smile at the grand adventure experienced with the imagination of a willing mind and a childlike spirit.