Yesterday I dreamed I had a photo of a landscape: mostly sky, and a low distant mountain. And the photo wasn't a still image, it was always changing, particularly the sky. There were people with me, and they asked me to get the sky to rain, as if I had that ability, and were talking about the sky as a woman.
"Make her cry for us, we need rain."
And at the moment the photograph was portraying a dark, heavy cloud over the mountain that sort of swirled menacingly. The horizon was pink, the sky looked like it does just before a tornado reaches out of the clouds.
So I sat by a window, looking over the same landscape as depicted in the photograph, and the sky was a tamer version in reality than the storm brewing in the picture.
Using an eye dropper full of water and ink, I dripped water into the clouds in the photograph, and the real sky grew rapidly darker. The horizon turned pink, the clouds became thick and dark and swirling.
The people that had asked for the rain watched this happen with me, and they were laughing and joking about how I could make her cry, what a funny thing to be able to do.
And I was thinking, too, how easy this was, to make her cry.
But then I wasn't looking out the window at the new storm emerging, but was now looking at a woman who vaguely resembled me, collapsing in tears against a tabletop, crying into her arms. She wasn't in the same time and space as us, she was in some dim room, a long ways away. It was as if I was seeing her on television. Her voice was distant and choked, and I didn't realize at first her sounds were addressing me, when she asked me to please stop what I was doing.
The other people were no longer there.
And I felt the overwhelming knowledge that what I did was horribly wrong.
"And then I woke up."
Crazily beautiful dream that's been on my mind all day, especially since we did get two nice storms today.
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