It was at the beach house; a small clapboard house dressed in the colors of white and beige, both inside and out. I walked the short, sandy pathway to the house barefooted, letting the warm sand cushion my steps and welcoming themselves between my toes. The warm ocean air flickered grains of sand on my face. I entered the house joining the rest of family and friends already there. Food was being prepared in the kitchen by the women who at the moment were bent over in laughter over some very good joke I obviously already had missed. The deep-voiced laughter of men in front of the house drinking their beers and talking sports could be heard all the way to the back of the bungalow. Lunch was finally ready and I went to call the men in. When I got to the front door, something felt unnatural, uncomfortable and instinctively I looked to my left. My heart dropped at seeing the sight of a tsunami crash onto the blocks west of us. The ground shook in its thunderous crash and I quickly ran into the house alerting the others. However, logically I knew that to outrun a tsunami was futile but I suppose survival instinct overrides the logical at times like these. On my way to the car my stomach suddenly dropped and the air left my lungs. It had arrived. It had only been a couple of seconds, but it was already there, right in front of us, looming high above the bungalows across the street, on this sunshiny day where the Sun was out and the day had been so perfect, so gorgeously perfect. The ominous giant wave, a giant clear blue monolith 30, 50 stories high, teetered on the brink of destruction. You could no longer see sky nor Sun. Just a monster of a wave, swaying leisurely, teasing us with its power to destroy and waiting to see what our next move would be. It did not crash down; instead, it waited, swaying to and fro as if taunting. We sensed it unfriendly, hostile, menacing, lethal. Teetering. Taunting. Teasing. Waiting. I turned to seek shelter back in the house but found my legs could no longer move. Fear had frozen me solidly in place. Dread made my lungs constrict. Trying to find my voice, I found it had deserted me as well. Nonetheless, I screamed to the others to seek shelter inside but barely a whisper came out. My throat was dry and it hurt because at the moment I was forcing it to do something that it could no longer do. Fear had stripped my vocal chords of vibration. I looked at my family and friends and saw everyone transfixed at what was to come. Resigned, I closed my eyes and prayed to God to save those I loved. As a solitary tear dropped down my cheek, I felt the air change and heard the ominous thunderous crash that signaled my end.
~~~
Based on a nightmare I had last night. It was so disturbingly vivid that I woke with my heart racing. The story stays true to the dream. Through journey of dream, I experienced something that shook my very core. So today is a day of reflection and pensive stillness and praying. Honoring those that perished in the wake of the Japan tsunami while my heart weeps in fear and gripping malaise for it still has not shaken off the dream.
12 comments:
Compassion....concern...sadness. So vivid.
Dreams. They are so powerful aren't they? How wonderful that a dream, an illusion, can give you such insight to the plight of others. And gratitude.
My God I read this thinking "she was in a Tsunami and survived to tell her tale!!"....thankfully it was all a nightmare you had.
I love that in your nightmare you prayed to God to save those you loved. Most times people pray for their own lives and in your moment you pray for the next person. That was very touching.
Hi Lorelei: It was such a vivid dream that I woke up shaking. I think it must be one of the worst ways in which to die. ((hugs))
Wine and Words: I agree, dreams are extremely powerful and sometimes, many times, can gift you the gift of insight. It gives you the opportunity to walk in someone else's shoes....
Loredana: No, I was not in a tsunami thankfully. And isn't it funny, I am one of those people that rarely prays for myself. I always, always pray for the peace of mind, good health and safety of others. I just never put myself in the equation.
I often used to get dreams similar to that when I was a child- harrowing! You captured the fear...
Wow. This was fun and scary to read.
Captivating. I feel a great novel coming on. The best stories come from dreams.
A great story. Yes, the love and unable to walk or shouting is typical of dreams, anxiety increases.
A brilliant and terrifying vision of what is and what has been, thank you for sharing this ...
Oh my goodness...! I have recurring dreams of a tsunami too, and they are just as you describe, and they're awful.
I was once in a tsunami, after a 9.5 magnitude earthquake in Alaska (the second biggest earthquake ever recorded). The tsunami was louder than 50 jet engines. It destroyed the town where I lived, but we lived up a hill so it didn't reach us. It was at night, so we couldn't see it, we could only hear it, and the next day we saw the awful destruction. The waves lasted from about 7:00 at night until about 3:00 in the morning.
Your words vividly take me to that place of terror.
A journey that swells through the mind as the inevitable is about to happen.
The feelign of helplessness is so real.
A really great piece of writing!
It is hard to write so captivatingly. I am trying hard to write that way. But as I read through your post, I was reminded of a poem by Hopkins, The Wreck of The Deutschland.
Hopkins imagines himself being a witness to the storm that devoured the Nuns, and though an imagined scene, it comes alive, much like yours, and strangely, Hopkins sees God in all that violence- he transcends the concept of destruction being anti-godly and sees God's benevolence through the deadly storm that wrecks the ship.
Beautiful empathies. Your writing is very nice.
I think it is collective consciousness and compassion combined that created your dream...we are all one and when others suffer, we experience their pain too, whether we are aware of it or not. I think that by sharing your dream, you have revealed the experience of other souls and by so doing, perhaps they will rest, knowing that they have been remembered, that their existence mattered. Well, that's what my intuition tells me...I could just be imagining this because it makes me feel better to do so, either way... I think your nightmare is actually a blessing.
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