In the quiet corridors of my subconscious, a dream that sometimes even gets mixed up as reality by my mind refuses to leave, a dream so vibrant that during the calmest state of my mind, I can hear it echoing from the wheel that holds my memories. This dream, which might seem insignificant to someone other than myself, represents my childhood. It doesn’t have a clear meaning or carefully placed signs by my higher self, but I still cherish the sensations it awakes in times of melancholia.
In my dream, I recall the foggy sky and heavy navy blue clouds filled with brutal rain waiting to release their burden. As a kid, I specifically loved this kind of weather because the scent of rain mixed with a whiff of soil meant that it was autumn, around my birthday. We were on a surprise class trip in kindergarten, and I was curiously sitting on the bus, wondering where it was taking us. I must have pushed my little mind too hard while thinking I fell asleep. As I was resting my body, I didn’t realize we had arrived until the sudden thump of the bus woke me up. I precisely remember opening my blurry eyes and seeing this magnificent view of trees in various colors surrounding a path. The harmony of the falling leaves still lingers in my daydreams. They were falling with such grace that it amazed my little brain. As my classmates got off the bus, I stayed seated, mesmerized by the leaves. I didn’t realize they were leaving until my teacher came and called my name. As I ran after my friends, we came across a dim pathway that resembled a scene from a movie. We walked down the path and chatted.
We stopped when we reached a playground at the center of the forest-like park. The park was filled with old blue, green, and red-coloured toys, and we went feral over them. Everyone rushed to be the first to play with them. I was going to follow their lead, but then I saw a snail with a large copper-colored shell. When I came closer, it got scared and hid in its shell. I stayed beside him, waiting for him to come out and say hi, but he didn’t want to say hi to me.
My dream ended there. I don’t know when I saw this dream or why I can’t forget it, but the falling leaves always made me think of peace, the dim path of my mom, and the snail of my dad.