Bobbing in kayaks, in the wake of motor boats, we are a set of something, red and green water flowers, kitschy salt and pepper shakers. We are a man and a woman. Little boats bumping and slogging into one another on Figure Eight Lake. We see A-frame houses appearing at the lake shore, emerging from the woods like people, approaching casually by foot, and settling in to survey all the activity of the holiday weekend. There is a sense of community apparent between the houses. I woke up, feeling as if I'd dreamt of simple mathematics, geometry, geomancy, patterns.
I see only the tops of people’s heads very often in dreams, usually out of windows or through windows, just the tops of all sorts of heads passing by. Dreaming early this morning, I was in a museum, walking by the entrance to a ramp down to a lower level of the museum. I saw the top of a woman’s head appear and disappear as she walked down the spiral ramp, obscured otherwise by the ramp’s high walls. I call out “Dorothy!” And walk back to enter the ramp, to see if I was correct about the identity of this top of someone’s head. And it is Dorothy. And I have a sense, as we are hugging one another, that she knows it means something special that I have identified her by only the top of her head in this place that neither one of us would usually be. She’s wearing a pale aqua colored dress that is strikingly lovely against the color of her skin. She's cheerful and finely turned out, going to a summer wedding, she says. “But it’s deep winter”, I say. And she replies that the wedding is inside the museum, but the theme is “summer wedding”. I think this is a fantastic idea, and I tell her so, and she replies “Well, I hope so! It is your wedding, after all.” In the dream, it seems perfectly reasonable, that Dorothy would be informing me of my own wedding, the day of. The exterior walls of the museum are made mostly of windows, and the place is alive with quickly-changing afternoon light.