I had a dream this morning that I was walking into a valley, initially spacious and green, dotted with wildflowers. 

As I walk, the terrain changes around me. 

Less vegetation, less colour, less of what’s familiar. 

The air is thicker, sometimes it’s harder to breathe easily. 

The sky is, as always, above me, sure and true. 

I am still in the valley. 

I see some of the path ahead, but not all. It curves away from me. 

Just keep walking. 

The sky changes. 

I hear only the wind, my heart beating in my ears and my breath. 

Where am I headed? 

Just follow the path. 

I walk. 

I am in a valley. 

Somehow, as you can on dreams, I become the valley. 

 

When I wake up, and see a valley indented into my forearm, where the sheets have left their mark, I wonder for a few moments about my dream. Can a person become a valley? 

 

I get up, I paint my valley. Purple hued hills in the distance, the path, the changing terrain. 

My valley. 

My path. 

Myself.