water dreams

My most vivid dreams are of water. Dreaming space for me is like being underwater too. Two nights ago I dreamt I was swimming in the ocean, the Caribbean, aqua and clear as glass and white sand beneath. Warm as a bath but I don't remember the sun, although it was light. I was swimming among hundreds of clown fish and they moved as a body around me, wavering away when I moved, smooth and fast. I cupped one in my hand and held it up to the surface so it could breathe because this one breathed air. Its nose rose above the surface and we drifted there easily in water and the sun, two friends.

I was aware of a weight and something sharp closing on my ankle and turned to see a metal bear trap clamped around my foot and a chain stretching down to the depths beneath the sand. I suppose it would have hurt in real life but it was a dream and there was only the suggestion of hurt. I tried to force it open and I suppose I succeeded. I felt more mad with rage than anything, hysterical to be free. I'm reminded of going to supermarkets and seeing dogs tied to pillars outside while owners complete their shopping. The dogs cry and whimper and are absolutely terrified that they will be left tied there to starve and die. I hate to see dogs chained up.

At home our yard is big and full of trees and bush and the dogs run and sleep everywhere and when they're tired they curl up by the kitchen door and doze, usually in the afternoon. And mom will sit there on the phone and scratch their backs, or I'll sit there and the wind will come in warm puffs and you never saw such light, the sun in the afternoon, home.

Home.