I was reminded of a memory of mine from when I was quite little today, and I really (still) don’t know quite what to make of it.
I had this quite strange dream when I was probably three or four years old. I remember very little of it, but there were flashing colorful lights, loud music, ancient arcade game machines, and a light-up sign on the wall advertising Goldstar (an Israeli beer). Now, being older, I know I must have dreamed of some kind of a bar (though not one I’ve ever been to since), even though I know I had no idea what a bar (or beer, for that matter) was at that age.
The dream shifted somewhere in there, and I was walking through an icy cornfield with my mum. There was a very distinct treeline at the right corner of the field, and the left sloped down gradually, opening up to a beautiful view of mountains and cloudy sky.
When I was six years old, my mother and I were hiking during a visit to the US, in the winter. We took a path that led through the woods and opened up at the end. My mum stopped when we got out into the open, and I vaguely remember her complaining that the trail was a dead end and it ended in someone’s cornfield.
All I could think at that moment was “it’s not supposed to be like this.” And it wasn’t, because I was standing in the cornfield from my dream, two or three years earlier. Everything was the same, right down to the clouds in the sky and the direction of the wind. I distinctly remember seeing the treeline at the edge of the field and knowing it was the same, knowing I had seen it before in a dream.
The kicker is that neither my mother and I had ever been to that hiking spot before. I don’t remember exactly where we were (definitely somewhere on the east coast- Maryland, Pennsylvania, upstate New York maybe?), which is a shame because I’d love to go back.
Glad I remembered this story now, though I wish it made more sense.