Gerry Margery
- Computer Hardware Tech / Photographer / Part-time mad scientist
- Science-Fiction / Fantasy / Steampunk / Magitech Reading & Writing enthusiast
- Bill Bailey Fan
- Explorer in the field of Oneironautics (Ask Wikipedia)
- Weird (Still saving up to be eccentric!)
- Master of the Ancient Art of Advanced Procrastination
- Black Belt in Origami
- A Lover ... not a Fighter
The Garden
Is this a dream?
I'm not too sure what or where this place is. But I know I like it here.
It looks like a large garden, surrounded by a tall brick wall. From somewhere on the other side of the wall I can hear the ocean, waves lapping against rock and then retreating again.
A calming sound. I always loved being near the sea.
Above, I can see the night sky, with strangely shaped unfamiliar constellations and a bright full moon peering down at me, illuminating my surroundings with a soft silvery glow.
To my left, I can see the tops of trees looming above the wall, suggesting a thick forest in that direction.
Behind me is the wall of a house with a door. The door is locked for now, I don't know where the key is.
Is this a dream?
In front of me, a path made of irregularly shaped stepping stones partially sunk into an overgrown lawn meanders towards a rickety looking shed with a rusting weathervane mounted on the roof.
Halfway along this path, a short stone column supports a sundial, the stone carved with strange twisting shapes like ancient Celtic runes and symbols. I can't recall their meanings, but there is something calming about them.
Beside this, a side path branches off towards a decorative wrought iron gate set into a gap in the surrounding wall. It is this that I find myself drawn towards, passing by intricately piled rockeries and curious stone carvings of half-animal, half human forms standing in seemingly random places amidst the flower beds.
Is this a dream?
Up close, the gate seems very old, with patches of rust carefully painted over with dark green paint that mirrors the colours of the leaves now hanging over the wall from the forest on the other side.
A complex pattern has been crafted into a circular metal plate in the middle of the gate, a shape resembling some kind of star chart. This looks even older than the gate itself.
Reaching for the latch, I open the gate, pulling it towards me. The old hinges wake from their slumber with a reluctant metallic creaking as the gate moves.
The sound reminds me of something, perhaps another gate I once passed through that made the same noise. I can't quite recall it though.
On the other side of the gate, the path and the lawn meet the wild chaotic tangle of undergrowth of the forest on the other side. Order giving way to Nature, like passing into another world, leaving the one I've spent far too long in behind me.
A well worn trail leads off between the mossy trees, like a path used often by feet more accustomed to treading this ground. Without knowing why, I follow it.
Is this a dream?
I can still hear the sound of ocean waves somewhere, muffled a little by the trees and the thick foliage on either side of the path. But I continue to walk along the path, away from the sound.
And now I can hear more water, but not the rushing of waves. This is more like the gentle trickling of a stream seeking to join the nearby ocean.
Soon enough, I find it. The forest path circles around a hollow within a clearing which has been turned into a small pond, fed by a stream, and overflowing back into a stream on its far side.
In contrast with the stream, the water in the pond looks calmer, with floating leaves from the trees and the indistinct shapes of tiny fish darting here and there between the rocks and water plants beneath the water.
The surface holds a mirrored reflection, a glimpse of the night sky overhead seen through the gap in the trees. Also I notice that someone has used pieces of string to hang small colourful crystals in a seemingly random pattern from the nearby tree branches. These glow with a soft light, attracting moths to circle around them and adding to the reflections in the mirror of the water.
This is perhaps the most peaceful place I have ever seen.
Is this a dream?
A sturdy wooden bridge has been built across the stream here, with climbing vines growing around the handrails on either side, with the forest trail continuing between the trees beyond it.
The shining crystals on the trees seem to be forming a path leading towards this, as if beckoning me to go on.
My footsteps echo dully through the timbers of the bridge as I cross over and leave the calm glade behind me.
Eventually I see another clearing up ahead, the path flanked on either side by two massive trees, like silent sentinels guarding this tranquil sanctuary from the world I've left behind.
Beyond these, all sound seems to stop, as if absorbed into the dense forest around me.
An intricately carved wooden gazebo has been built here, covered with vines and mossy growth.
Inside, a curved bench runs around the perimeter. A figure is sitting there, reading a book.
Is this a dream?
I enter the structure and sit on the bench opposite the figure.
Larger versions of the glowing crystals I saw before hang from the rafters supporting the roof, providing a nice warm light here.
The figure looks like a woman with red hair and wearing green clothing the same colour as the plants of the forest. She looks young, barely out of her teens, but there was a look in her blue-grey eyes that hinted at someone much older, who had seen much more of the universe than you would have expected.
I try to read the title on the cover of the book she is reading, but it seems to be written in strange symbols, like the runes I saw back in the garden.
She looks up from the book and smiles cheerfully at me before turning a page and looking back at the text again.
“Yes, this is a dream” she says quietly, as if continuing a conversation we had been having before.
“But it is not your dream” she continues.
Then she looks up at me again.
“At least, not yet” she adds with an enigmatic smile.
Getting up from the seat, she places a bookmark on the page she was reading and closes the book.
Her other hand reaches into her pocket and draws something out which she places in my hand and closes my fingers over it.
“Until we meet again” she says before turning and walking out into the forest heading along the path I took to get here.
At the entrance to the clearing, she pauses and waves to me before moving between the two large trees and disappearing from sight.
Quickly I hurry after her, eager to know who she is. But when I reach the path, she is not there.
I run back along the way I came before, across the bridge and through the tranquil clearing until I reach the old gate again.
There is no sign of her. Although, I have a strange feeling I haven't seen the last of her.
I step back through the gate and look around the garden again.
Nothing has changed, except now the sun is beginning to rise, shedding a bright light into the garden which the plants eagerly turn their heads towards.
I approach the door of the house, back to where I started out again. But something feels different now.
I open my hand and examine the object the strange woman gave me. It is an ornately carved key.
I approach the door and try the key in its lock. It fits perfectly. I give it a turn and open the door.
“Is this a dream?”
Is this a dream?
I'm not too sure what or where this place is. But I know I like it here.
It looks like a large garden, surrounded by a tall brick wall. From somewhere on the other side of the wall I can hear the ocean, waves lapping against rock and then retreating again.
A calming sound. I always loved being near the sea.
Above, I can see the night sky, with strangely shaped unfamiliar constellations and a bright full moon peering down at me, illuminating my surroundings with a soft silvery glow.
To my left, I can see the tops of trees looming above the wall, suggesting a thick forest in that direction.
Behind me is the wall of a house with a door. The door is locked for now, I don't know where the key is.
Is this a dream?
In front of me, a path made of irregularly shaped stepping stones partially sunk into an overgrown lawn meanders towards a rickety looking shed with a rusting weathervane mounted on the roof.
Halfway along this path, a short stone column supports a sundial, the stone carved with strange twisting shapes like ancient Celtic runes and symbols. I can't recall their meanings, but there is something calming about them.
Beside this, a side path branches off towards a decorative wrought iron gate set into a gap in the surrounding wall. It is this that I find myself drawn towards, passing by intricately piled rockeries and curious stone carvings of half-animal, half human forms standing in seemingly random places amidst the flower beds.
Is this a dream?
Up close, the gate seems very old, with patches of rust carefully painted over with dark green paint that mirrors the colours of the leaves now hanging over the wall from the forest on the other side.
A complex pattern has been crafted into a circular metal plate in the middle of the gate, a shape resembling some kind of star chart. This looks even older than the gate itself.
Reaching for the latch, I open the gate, pulling it towards me. The old hinges wake from their slumber with a reluctant metallic creaking as the gate moves.
The sound reminds me of something, perhaps another gate I once passed through that made the same noise. I can't quite recall it though.
On the other side of the gate, the path and the lawn meet the wild chaotic tangle of undergrowth of the forest on the other side. Order giving way to Nature, like passing into another world, leaving the one I've spent far too long in behind me.
A well worn trail leads off between the mossy trees, like a path used often by feet more accustomed to treading this ground. Without knowing why, I follow it.
Is this a dream?
I can still hear the sound of ocean waves somewhere, muffled a little by the trees and the thick foliage on either side of the path. But I continue to walk along the path, away from the sound.
And now I can hear more water, but not the rushing of waves. This is more like the gentle trickling of a stream seeking to join the nearby ocean.
Soon enough, I find it. The forest path circles around a hollow within a clearing which has been turned into a small pond, fed by a stream, and overflowing back into a stream on its far side.
In contrast with the stream, the water in the pond looks calmer, with floating leaves from the trees and the indistinct shapes of tiny fish darting here and there between the rocks and water plants beneath the water.
The surface holds a mirrored reflection, a glimpse of the night sky overhead seen through the gap in the trees. Also I notice that someone has used pieces of string to hang small colourful crystals in a seemingly random pattern from the nearby tree branches. These glow with a soft light, attracting moths to circle around them and adding to the reflections in the mirror of the water.
This is perhaps the most peaceful place I have ever seen.
Is this a dream?
A sturdy wooden bridge has been built across the stream here, with climbing vines growing around the handrails on either side, with the forest trail continuing between the trees beyond it.
The shining crystals on the trees seem to be forming a path leading towards this, as if beckoning me to go on.
My footsteps echo dully through the timbers of the bridge as I cross over and leave the calm glade behind me.
Eventually I see another clearing up ahead, the path flanked on either side by two massive trees, like silent sentinels guarding this tranquil sanctuary from the world I've left behind.
Beyond these, all sound seems to stop, as if absorbed into the dense forest around me.
An intricately carved wooden gazebo has been built here, covered with vines and mossy growth.
Inside, a curved bench runs around the perimeter. A figure is sitting there, reading a book.
Is this a dream?
I enter the structure and sit on the bench opposite the figure.
Larger versions of the glowing crystals I saw before hang from the rafters supporting the roof, providing a nice warm light here.
The figure looks like a woman with red hair and wearing green clothing the same colour as the plants of the forest. She looks young, barely out of her teens, but there was a look in her blue-grey eyes that hinted at someone much older, who had seen much more of the universe than you would have expected.
I try to read the title on the cover of the book she is reading, but it seems to be written in strange symbols, like the runes I saw back in the garden.
She looks up from the book and smiles cheerfully at me before turning a page and looking back at the text again.
“Yes, this is a dream” she says quietly, as if continuing a conversation we had been having before.
“But it is not your dream” she continues.
Then she looks up at me again.
“At least, not yet” she adds with an enigmatic smile.
Getting up from the seat, she places a bookmark on the page she was reading and closes the book.
Her other hand reaches into her pocket and draws something out which she places in my hand and closes my fingers over it.
“Until we meet again” she says before turning and walking out into the forest heading along the path I took to get here.
At the entrance to the clearing, she pauses and waves to me before moving between the two large trees and disappearing from sight.
Quickly I hurry after her, eager to know who she is. But when I reach the path, she is not there.
I run back along the way I came before, across the bridge and through the tranquil clearing until I reach the old gate again.
There is no sign of her. Although, I have a strange feeling I haven't seen the last of her.
I step back through the gate and look around the garden again.
Nothing has changed, except now the sun is beginning to rise, shedding a bright light into the garden which the plants eagerly turn their heads towards.
I approach the door of the house, back to where I started out again. But something feels different now.
I open my hand and examine the object the strange woman gave me. It is an ornately carved key.
I approach the door and try the key in its lock. It fits perfectly. I give it a turn and open the door.
“Is this a dream?”
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