Let me tell you about my Tsunami dreams – one of which I had during my time in the “Pale Mountains” of the Italian Dolomites. They occur when I least expect them, during moments of unwavering change. Sometimes I am at the beach. Other times, I am far inland, on top of a mountain or in the midst of a bustling city. Most often, I am standing within a structure – a house, a shed, or even once in a stadium. Sometimes the building has holes which the tsunami will penetrate; other times it is waterproof and even bulletproof. Either way, the tsunami will slam down on top of me and the structure will keep me relatively dry. The force with which it hits me and the extent of fear that I feel are often paralleled, though I will never be drowned and I will always survive.
In the Dolomites, we had been venturing out at midnight, hunkering down and shooting the stars. There was one evening in particular, where we were not prepared for the windchill, nor were we expecting the meteor that then lit the sky on fire around us. When the sun began its ascent, the atmosphere was flushed with blushing hues. It felt like every single Tsunami dream I’d had up until then had culminated in that singular moment. I knew at that point that everything I had been working towards had been worth it.
Romance could never be boring in a world like this.