Like a Dream

Have you ever dreamt of a place that was so perfect and so happy and so beautiful that you are certain that nothing like it can really exist? A place that resonates with you so deeply that you are sure you were meant to be there? A place that gives you a complete sense of being home? I have had the 'home' dream many times.

As a child, I dreamt of a 3-d version of my own crayon art: green, grassy hills with bright sunshine warming the white clapboard house with dormer windows and a brick chimney. Incongruously, there was a fire in the fireplace despite the obvious summer sunlight. But later, after living in the desert for so long, I dreamt of cool, lush landscapes and narrow, wet sidewalks. I dreamt of water and mist, canals and bays, closely huddled houses with a bricked town square where everyone exchanged greetings as they passed. All the people knew each other and had been in each others' homes. The landscaping was meticulous and flower beds lined the fronts of houses. No cars were were anywhere to be seen. All travel was by foot, by bicycle or by boat. Backyard gardens contained complex mazes and hidden statuary. But they were open to anyone.

A shop on the corner sold pastries and coffee for a mid-afternoon break and canals divided and connected the village. For this dreamland was an island, away from the world, unchanging overtime, unaffected, uncorrupted. Perfect. Too perfect to exist.

But it does exist. Sort of.

On my last trip to the Netherlands, I went to the little-visited Zuider Zee Museum. Much of it is outdoors - homes, businesses and churches taken down from dying fishing villages all over North Holland and re-assembled on an island outside of Enkhuizen. My picture of the sailboats from a few posts back was taken on the trip out to the museum. As we motored out, I had no idea that I would be stepping into my own dream. But, as we passed the fleet of old fishing boats as they put out for the day, I began to get a familiar feeling. I knew that this was no ordinary excursion. I was entering something meaningful for me.



When we arrived and debarked, I could not believe what I was seeing. This was the place of my dreams. I felt like I already knew the layout of the town and had been in all the buildings before. But that would be impossible. This is a make-believe town, an invention. But it felt so real in my memory.

Have you ever dreamed of a perfect place? Have you ever found it?