The Tower of Dreams

Lately I hardly have the conventional recurrent dreams any more --- those of missing a train or plane. Another element has been recurring a number of times, which evokes no anxiety or fear but rather a kind of happy anticipation. A grand castle with ancient but beautiful interior, and stairs upward into a high tower that overlooks the world all around it. I know it is the same place in each of these dreams, because it is always close to home, just out of sight but so easy to reach. Sometimes it is across a field of high golden grass, sometimes a few miles of historical blocks, and, sometimes, hidden away in the suburb --- a secret treasure known to and belong to few visitors. A European castle hidden quietly in an American prairie.

In all of these dreams, I skipped and ran, eager to take my friends to the castle and climb to the top of the tower. It was so near, only ten minutes away, across the field of gold, and so beautiful and impressive, that I could barely contain my excitement.