I will ramble today. I shall burble.

To begin with – such a dream! Well, maybe not so remarkable for those people who are into this sort of thing, but for someone like myself, for someone who doesn’t recall his dreams often and doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about those he remembers, it was remarkable, in its small way.

(Am I using my commas correctly? I’m never sure about that. Troublesome, given that I make my living writing. But the dream …)

I found the dream fascinating because I dreamt I was waking from a dream. Yes; in the dream I woke from the dream. Then went downstairs.

Going downstairs was quite the thing too. I woke fully dressed, though dishevelled. I then got onto something like a ski-lift type thing and rode it downstairs. You see, “upstairs,” where I woke, was apparently up in the mountains (the Rockies). As I rode whatever it was downstairs (I was very high up) I had a marvelous panoramic view. I could see mountains everywhere – as far as the eye can see, as the expression puts it. And it was early to mid-June. Everything was green and lush, even the mountain tops. (They must have been very small mountains and it was probably a new experience for those mountains to have even their peaks covered with grass as opposed to snow.)

And was at home in Edmonton, which was something of a geographic marvel since you can’t see the mountains in Edmonton. They’re too far away. They were too close even for Calgary, so the dream was playing fast and loose with topography, as dreams will do.

Sadly, this was the only thing of interest in the dream. At least, that is pretty much all I remember of it. But imagine it. I woke “upstairs” at the top of mountains and went “downstairs” to the base of them.

The mind has its own sense of domestic interiors.