the Saturday Breakfast Serial: The Desk part 7

Welcome to another installment of the Saturday Breakfast Serial.  We continue with part 7 of The Desk.  You may read the previous chapters here on the blog.  And now...

The Desk part 7

        I slept deeply and soundly, and was aware upon waking that I had been visited by many dreams.  Twice, I had wakened in the night to scribble notes in a dream journal while still half asleep, having cultivated the skill of writing in the dark so as not to come into full wakefulness by turning on the light.
        I slipped my hand under the pillow to make sure the little leather journal was still in its place.  Drawing it out, I laid it on the night stand, then sitting up in bed, I opened my dream journal to review the notes from the night before.
        The first scribbled notes jogged my memory.  The dream had been vivid and involved.  As if I were reliving a memory of traveling to a remote part of the world.  In the dream, I traveled by train, by ocean liner, by train again, and eventually on foot.  It had seemed like I was meandering, in no particular hurry, but that I had been irresistibly drawn to a remote and primitive part of the world, high in the mountains.  I had seen many interesting places along the way and met many people.
        What struck me most about the dream, was that it had seemed to be a memory.  A memory which I had no difficulty in recalling now that I was awake.  As if I had really lived it.  I could remember snatches of conversations, food eaten, hotel rooms, inns, and hostels, each with their own vivid sights, sounds, and smells.
        The second part of the dream had mostly been about a summer hiking trip in a mountainous region in what seemed to be somewhere in Asia.  In the dream I seemed to be part of a small entourage.  This part of the dream was not as clear in my memory as the first part had been.  But I had the distinct impression that the journey took place over the course of months, rather than weeks and that we were well guided and well protected.
        Whatever else I had dreamed, if there was anymore after the second waking, was lost to me.  And I felt like I had gotten a very good night’s rest in spite of the adventurous content of my dreams.  In fact, I felt deeply peaceful and content, though I couldn’t say why.
        I put the dream journal back on the night stand and got out of bed.  Quite a little time had passed while I had been pondering last night’s dreams, and I was beginning to feel hungry.
        I went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.  The chilly house made me long for a hot shower and warm clothes and so I put off having my first cup until I was showered and dressed.
        After breakfast, I took my second cup of coffee into the living room.  I drew the curtains to let a little of the weak morning sun filtering through bare branches into the room and stood surveying the contents of the tea cart.  The desk had been left open, but I didn’t notice any fragrance from the herbal packet still tucked into its drawer.  I put the cup down, and drew up a comfortable chair to begin going through the sorted piles of memorabilia.
        Among the pile of trinkets I had sorted the day before, was a small jewel box containing a small gold watch on a stick pin.  Such a delicate watch.  Obviously it had belonged to a lady.  I set the jewel box back into a cubby in the desk, and continued replacing the items I had taken out the day before.  There were bottles of ink with pens and stationary of fine paper.  There was a packet of letters tied with a ribbon, which I placed back into the desk hoping to read after I finished with the journal.  There were miscellaneous foreign coins, a small ledger with some expenses noted, and a thick packet with maps and itineraries in a paper document sleeve fastened with string.
        The maps were of interest.  There were maps from all over the world.  One in particular showed the mountainous region in Central Asia, with the map folded open to reveal the Hindukush range.
        One of the last things I placed into the desk was a sketch book which contained artistic details of plants including roots, leaves, flowers, and seeds; each accompanied by its botanical name.
        I wondered about the packet of herbs and flowers stored in the small desk drawer, and which had been referred to in the journal.  I remembered my first encounter with these herbs and how it had affected me.  Was I ready to investigate further?


Thank you for reading and please join me here next week for part 8 of The Desk on the Saturday Breakfast Serial.