The Swing Bridge

I had a rather random, ‘normal’ dream last night.

Normal in the sense that I didn’t fly, and random in that I wasn’t in a large room. I wasn’t in any room, in fact. I was outside.

In my dreams, my town is completely different to how my town is laid out in reality. Streets are in places where they shouldn’t be, extra parts of the town seem to have been added on, yet there is always something of a familiar feel to these incorrect places.

Very often in my dreams, I have places that are completely out of place to where they should be, yet I think nothing of it. Like Texas being just outside of New York City, for example.

I was showing some visitors around the town, walking along one of these roads that do not exist. A large building with a door on the corner is about halfway along this road. This building is different to all of the others as it appears to be built of wood and glass, there are certainly lots of wooden panels on the wall we have to walk by. I remember a stranger jumping out of the door, and asking one of the people I am with a question. I don’t know what the question was, but it appeared that my friend knew the answer anyway, and then we continued with the walk.

I was pointing out various ‘monuments’ as though I was a guide running a tour.

A little further along this road, the buildings were only on one side of it, to our left, as the canal was now to the right. The canal was very busy with traffic, and was overflowing with water.

At the end of this road, we had to turn right to cross over a swing bridge, to be able to get over the canal and continue with the tour.

As we were crossing the bridge, which should have been quite high, well clear of the water, we noticed that water was pouring over the footpath. I was pointing out all of the other bridges that crossed the canal at various points, when I noticed that only one of my party was still with me. The others had apparently noticed that the bridge was about to swing to allow a boat through, and ran to the other side.

Needless to say, this other person and I were too late to get off the bridge, as the barriers were down. We had to walk back to the middle of the bridge while the Bridgemaster did his work. We noticed the reason for the water gushing onto the bridge. Three or four water skiers were zipping all around the canal, up and down at great speeds, causing high waves. The waves shouldn’t have been as high as they were, but they were. From this angle, the canal was also wider than it was when we were walking by it minutes before.

After a few minutes of the bridge being open, it started to close again. We hadn’t noticed any boat passing through, even though we had been watching the other activity on the water. And within a few more minutes, the barriers were open once again, and we could walk off the bridge. It was at this point that this dream ended.

What is strange is that I can clearly remember the people with me in the dream, there were three of them. I can not describe them, yet can see them vividly, even now, in my mind’s eye. I can see clearly the man jumping out from the doorway, but can’t describe him either. I know that I didn’t know him, yet I knew the three I was with. And I can remember the two of us on the bridge having a conversation with the Bridgemaster, although he shouldn’t have been with us on the bridge as he was in his office operating the bridge. The Bridgemaster was your typical seafarer, thick beard, cap and thick woollen navy-blue pullover. There was a badge on the pullover that looked like a crest, an emblem of some kind, and the word Bridgemaster was embroidered beneath it.

The roads, the bridge, the canal, the water skiers and the embroidery are all very clear. Crystal clear in fact. The people and what we were actually doing not so.

Some people think that dreams are a way of our minds sorting things out, getting things straight in our heads. I hope this was an example of that… although I think it may be a message for me to ensure that I pay attention to the right things…