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Candice [userpic]
by Candice (girl_next_dork)
at November 22nd, 2007 (12:01 pm)

I was walking down a street in the artsy district with a friend of mine - this girl I don't really know. She had very fair skin, short strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles, sort of stocky. We were watching the crows putter around on the street, and thought how great it would be to just fly over intersections you didn't like. So we suddenly were crows. And we did. Between two houses, no bigger than a normal lot, was a forest path we momentarily peeked into. I expected Cats to be playing itself out in that forest (I blame Six Degrees Of Separation before bed), so kept going. Somehow, we ended up in southeast Portland, on Division Street. I was driving my boyfriend's truck down these narrow lanes. Suddenly I was on my bicycle. And even more suddenly still, I was running. The girl was behind me on a bicycle still.

I felt powerful and full of energy. A woman from work rode up alongside me on her bicycle, wearing her safety vest and helmet and lights and everything. And we were going alongside traffic. I was keeping up just fine, 15 miles an hour or so. I felt invincible. "Sometimes you just feel like you have to do something, you're just so full and--" I said, and Lynette responded, "Yeah! I know!", and we went on. The lanes got even more narrow, with parking on the side, so we went onto the sidewalk. And still I was running. It had been like 3 miles now, and I was chugging along, brimming with energy and joy. We looked behind to see my companion bathed in sweat, red in the face... so stopped out in front of a McMenamin's restaurant. My co-worker pulled out her camera, and I took a picture of my companion... who looked deathly pale and ill from exhaustion. She smiled at me and asked how the photo came out. I erred and said I'd leave the two to socialize while I scoped out the restaurant.

I headed around the small building to the grassy picnic area out back. A creek ran alongside, and at a picnic table right next to the water, were several more co-workers. "Hey Candice!" said one, "Maybe you can tell us how far down that goes!". I looked into the creek. It started out shallow, but quickly rushed downward into the murkier water, presumably 10 or more feet deep. I really wanted to know just how deep. "As Steve Irwin would say," I charmingly replied, "'Terri, Get me a stick'!". The table of people laughed and I started outside the picnic area. Conveniently, there was a forest directly out back, running with the creek. I knew I'd find a long stick if I looked enough.

The forest was old growth. Tall, big, crackly-bark trees that looked dry and static. And there was a path, easily 20 feet wide. Not really a path at all, but it'd been cleared well enough. I couldn't find a stick of any size... the forest looked picked clean. Just dirt and trees and some moss. I continued down. It was beautiful and I couldn't stop admiring it. (I was wondering how the hell this was in southeast Portland.) Eventually, there were some rock formations ahead of me, mossy on top. I started toward them.

And as the trees began to move aside, I soon came to a quarry-like valley, with steep cliff faces encircling me. The first thing I noticed were the marble alcoves built into the cliff faces, with life-size golden lions inside, guarding the valley. A Parthenon-style building was at the very top of the cliffs. And a guard tower stood not far away as well. Everything was alabaster and gold and bright. The cliffs themselves almost sparkled too. At this time, a grandiose orchestral score flooded my ears, and I stood observing it all in awe. It was so, so, so beautiful.

Somehow, the vision faded and turned into my own pencil drawing. I was looking at the cliffs, nit-picking my technique (just as I would be in real life). My grandfather was next to me, asking about the dream, and I explained it to him.

"A lost civilization, or just... a civilization?" he asked.

"No, it was like... I don't know!"

"Describe it to me again."

And I did. A few sentences in, I hazily reentered consciousness, and kept on talking. After I'd described the valley I looked over at my boyfriend, who was listening intently. I'd been talking for quite a while. Then I recreated the drawing in a few minutes.