Caught between the promise of spring and the dying days of winter, I find myself dreaming in my sleep again.
Wiser people than me tell me I dream every night, but I don’t ever seem to remember it. At least most days.
It goes in fits and spurts – I will go months, if not years without remembering my dreams. Suddenly, everything will be memorable. I will awake in that liminal space where you think you can still fly, loved ones are still present and the world is more colourful.
I have always felt that dreams were just that – non waking space where anything can happen, but I must say, I find the change a bit glaring.
