Millions upon millions of fish swimming in the ocean, darting this way and that, several hundreds of them even breaking the surface of the water as they leap into the clear, crisp air and enjoy flight for a few seconds before gravity pulls them back down into their cool, heavy blue home.
This was the dreamland (or dream-sea) I was in during those few hours of slumber this morning. It seemed so real: I could still feel the weightlessness of being in the water and the sensation of the fish brushing against my arms and legs as I swam with them. This dream was weird because I'm not a strong swimmer at all and me swimming in the open sea is just as likely to happen as a cow jumping over the moon, or a mermaid suddenly sprouting wings and flying off into the sunset.
Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid has always been my favorite fairy tale--a haunting story of love, happiness, sacrifice, and loss. I know that the Disney film version was very successful all over the world, but I never could bear to watch it. It somehow seemed sacrilegious. But that's just me.
This morning's dream might have been brought on by one too many birthday beers. Or not. In any case, I'm not complaining. Head is clear. Body feels refreshed.
But feet are itching.