I woke up this morning in a quiet bed and within a few moments recalled some dreams with extraordinary imagery. Almost immediately I queried yesterday's diet for the opportunity to correlate the influence of some ingredient upon brain chemistry. Beyond copious amounts of pollen (imbibed involuntarily through the nose), some fairly potent salsa verde and 1000 mg of extra strength Tylenol, I will note the 4oz of a Vitamin Water--that I drank around 5:30 pm to wash down the acetaminophen--that purports to have Taurine--an amino sulfonic acid that might be psychotropic, it is the active ingredient in Redbull and apparently has a remarkable kick, if it doesn't gore you. Who says there is no humor in science? At the risk of appearing self-indulgent, (what blog doesn't), I give honorable mention to the yogurt parfait I had at Perry's with Paul, whose toasted oats, blackberries and raspberries were an exquisite detour down Rapture of Thetongue Lane and which I recuse from suspicion.
The most striking image that came first to my nascent morning mind was that of a sublimely clear and bucolic pool in which was swimming a magnificently wild, mountainesque lion. No sooner was this spectacular sight manifest than I became aware of an archer on a stone at the boundary of the water, letting loose an arrow that pierced the tawny cat. Some telepathic BBC narrator informed me that the arrow was tipped with a fatal poison that paralyzed the lion but allowed it to breathe and float long enough to be recovered as a trophy. Archer was too good a word, this was a hunter with extremely vain aspirations. When the arrow entered the lion's side, the powerful feline whirled in the water, its eyes blazing portals of wild. Incapacitated, it drifted to the periphery of my sleep like a cloud over the horizon and suddenly I had the seductively clear water to myself.
Without reservations I launched, plunging through the sparkling surface into a bright depth of aqueous bliss, enjoying that momentous glide of the dive as I took in my surroundings. The joy was short-lived however, as upon surfacing, I noted a uniformed figure on the horizon, striding out of the hills toward my oasis. As stealthily as possible in such transparent environs, I crept out of the water, hiding myself behind some convenient bushes--where the officer easily found me. I confessed to feeling silly, hiding like that, and to not knowing what compelled me--for there seemed like there should be no restrictions in such a place. Apparently on a public service mission, the ranger paternally parted a lock of my hair and informed me of a toxic danger in the water. More than fearing for my life, the feeling I had was more a lament, that the world had come to such insidious risk.
As dreams will, this one faded into a somnolent distance and I moved on--to a remarkably equipped kitchen, where I was charged with drawing a still life with broccoli and woman, somehow designed to make children more enamored of the brassica.
