Memories of a Dewdrop

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One night I had a very strangely beautiful dream; the kind that stays with you forever. It came back as I was daydreaming today, so I thought I’d share it. First off, the majority of my dreams are like recreations of Salvador Dali paintings in motion – they’re vivid, full of vibrant hues, and sometimes can be surrealist interpretations of the world around me. Other nights, my dreams mimic things that happened or could happen in my everyday life.

It was a humid, rainy summer night, the kind that awakens the soil’s earthy musk with each drop. I had my window open, and the soft, balmy air kissed my cheek as I drifted off to sleep. My dreams carried me to the top of a tree. I was suspended in a raindrop, hanging in the glint of the summer sun, the rays creating a prism-like cocoon. Suddenly, the wind pushed the branches of the tree, and I fell with the drop, softly into a field. The raindrop burst, and I wiped my eyes to see a field of flowers – with all of the colours removed. It was like I had landed in the middle of a colour-by-number game. I looked around me and saw that the scattered droplets from the prism-raindrop had retained their lustrous shades, so I began to pick them up one by one and drop the colours onto the flowers until I had decorated the majority of the field around me. It was beautifully still, save for the sound of the cicadas crackling in the distance.

I climbed back up the tree to see my work, smiling with pride at what I had done. The beauty of the world was in my hands, and I had shared it to make something better. I hung with one hand from the tree, and fell into a bed of dandelions past their prime, their puffy parachutes landing all around me. This is the moment I woke up. The pillows surrounding me in bed had me duped into thinking I still was in that field when I was half-awake. I remember spending the entire day afterwards making sense of the beauty I had experienced overnight.

I drew the conclusion that my subconscious was telling me to make my mark on the world and paint it how I felt. The most satisfying part of life is expressing yourself through your own palette while appreciating others’ contributions to the mural of life.

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