San Francisco Dreaming

My San Francisco dream from last night. It's actually about Angel island, but I put San Francisco in the title because I figured more people would recognize that. And it's not really about Angel island as it really is, but as an imaginary version.

Here we go. In this dream, San Francisco and the entire bay area are a surrealistic, Myst-esk version of themselves. Everything is clean and shinny, the skies clear, all the colors way too bright and the vistas sharp and clear. I was riding the train out to "Angle Island" to meet with my spiritual group. We had been meeting out there before, on a regular basis.

A train to an island? Yeah, well, the trains were like amusement part rides, in a way. The tracks were open-work girder trestles, absolutely straight and flat, a couple of hundred feet over the water and the hills of San Francisco. Where the tracks met the island, they came to a dead end and there was a tower, with an elevator inside, I suppose, going down to the island. The train cars themselves were open-topped affairs with no roof or windows, like cars on a roller coaster. I had to admit that the view was spectacular, but there was that certain level of fear, that I might fall out or the train might leave the tracks, that I had to handle. The train wasn't full, but there were plenty of other people there.

When I got to Angel island, it was crowded with tourists. This was not the real Angel island, it was much smaller and covered with public building. The buildings were made of light-colored stone, with lots of colored windows and plenty of open space inside. They were styled like the classic public architecture of the thirties, but with more arches and domes, and were reminiscent of some of the turn-of-the-last-century buildings still found in this area. The buildings were all jumbled together, like something that had grown over time, with structures being added, replaced and remodeled many times. Giving the impression of a ancient city, with uncounted levels and courtyards and passageways, all forming a pleasantly complicated maze.

As I was wondering around, trying to find the room where we my group was meeting, I somehow got myself caught in a hatch, coming up out of the ground into the bright sunlight. Some tourists helped me by lifting the hatch cover and I was able to practice my rudimentary Spanish while thanking them. Even the people in this dream were clean, and sharp with bright, vivid colors. I never did find my group, though I really enjoyed all the big, colorful glass windows and the beautiful buildings. Darn Mornings! Waking up is hard to do.