I am sitting on the floor in front of a glass window. I am trying to see the view, which is partially obscured by a spray-snow Christmas stencil of a sleigh and reindeer. The view is the North Shore mountains, covered with fresh, real snow. I crane my neck and turn my head to see through the gaps in the stencil and past the smudges that distort what I can see.
There are other people in the room, co-workers I think, but also friends. They are exclaiming at the beauty. They have renamed Hollyburn, Black Mountain, The Lions all as one majestic mountain with a special name. We all say the name of the new mountain. I can't remember it now. It glows brighter than anything around it, a brilliant, clean white. When I look away it is burned into my visual field.
question: did you ever dream that you couldn't move, and were having trouble seeing something everyone else could see?
mompoet - fixed