I am perpetually jealous of my husband’s dreams.
He is always flying, driving race cars and saving the world by blowing up bad guys.
While I wander lost, through far off villages trying to figure out how to stick-on my face that has somehow fallen off. (How do I come up with this crap?!)
But last night I finally had a speed themed dream.
I was laying in the North Umpqua on my back with my two sisters (I have no idea who these girls were, creations of my subconscious.) after floating for a bit I caught the current and shot down the river (luge style) twisting and turning, occasionally feeling rocks graze my feet.
Eventually I reached my destination, the mouth of the sea. The sun was setting; it was glorious with its oranges and purples. I paddled to shore and realized I had beaten my usual time. Normally that trip would have taken 3 hours; I did it in 30 minutes. (and without a boat or life jacket, oh the wonders of it all!)