I dreamt last night that Faith, Min, Louelle and me were in Arizona. I remember it being Arizona not because it looked like Arizona, but because it simply felt like Arizona.
We were standing on a beach that looked every bit like Newport beach in California (but this was Arizona). Three little needle like wavy things protruded from the sand and up into the shallow water near our feet. They waved about, like fibre optic decorations, lit up in a glowing light blue lightsabrerish manner. When they extended to their full length one of them broke off from the ground and burst open into a small round jellyfish. We shouted to warn people walking on the beach, afraid that they might unwittingly walk into the jellyfish and find themselves in quite the painful predicament.
Then we were walking back to our chalets on a pavement that looked suspiciously like the maroon-grey patterned pavements found in Singapore’s East Coast Park (near the lagoon). There were hanging lights in the trees, and a crispness in the air.
Maybe that’s the home I’m looking for. Not one fixed geographical location, but a mixed bag of goodness from every shore. Maybe that was heaven.