Dreamboat

I feel so busy and in the flow.  Sunday a fortnight ago, the day after the housewarming party, was a ‘day off’ during which we vegged out and ate leftovers.  Then back to work for three days and Steve and I went to Cambridge and Norfolk last weekend.  Another three days at work, friends visiting from Birmingham this weekend and then we are off to Kent to celebrate our birthday week.  I have so much to write about and process, yet it’s difficult to find the time.  May be a reflection of summertime, a season of busy-ness and growth.  There is a swirl of experience and images eddying within, but one keeps rising to the surface.

On the north coast of Norfolk, Steve and I walked along the Morston Marshes to the village of Blakeney.  On the way back, my hands were occupied with a dead butterfly and a tern wing I had picked up.  We are sharing Steve’s camera at the mo.  Mine fell victim to my annual camera mishap.  Literally.  I was making a video of the interior of our fridge (don’t ask) and it fell on the floor when I opened the door.

Anyhow, on the way back to Morston Quay, we saw a boat made from clouds and sky floating on a sea of grass.  Steve took the photo.

dreamboat1-rs

We had talked a few weeks ago about night dreams and waking dreams.  How everything new starts with a thought, a notion, a vision.  About how practical, pragmatic folk derisively say ‘You’re just a dreamer’ and ‘Your head’s in the clouds’.  Steve pointed out that you can’t have dreams unless you are awake.  Awake to possibilities and in touch with the power of one’s creativity to manifest them.

Everything new begins with a dream . . . .

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