I dreamed a small stone last night. Entering the kitchen of my childhood home, I see the countertop is covered with white orchids and all sizes of deep red roses. The way the sunlight was falling on them, the shadows it cast made me gasp. For a moment I was stopped, frozen by the beauty, standing completely still in awe and wonder, thinking to myself inside this dream that I didn’t know was a dream, “how could this even be real?”
Then I realized I needed to capture this moment, this small stone, so I rushed to find a camera, which led to the kind of confused, lost searching that so often happens in dreams. By the time I came back to the kitchen with a camera, the sun was gone and the room was dark, the moment had passed, captured only in memory, lived only in a dream.