The Gothic Graveyard
I am not close to my mother by any
stretch of the truth...but I do dream of her often.....in most of my dreams my
mother was much nicer towards me than she's been in real life. But in this dream we were on a strange journey together. We were somewhere,
looking through foggy windows and straining to see the strange vision. I could
feel and hear the loud wind blowing through the cracks in the
windows....whistling and screaming, pushing it's way through the glass. It was
blowing my hair into my eyes and it made it even harder to see what was out
there. And I could smell the earth and cold stone.
It appeared to be a very
old graveyard...a very Gothic graveyard. It had wrought iron fencing all
around it and a mist was rising up from the ground, but only in the grave
section. It reminded me of every spooky movie I had ever seen. The moon light was giving everything a blue / gray color and we could
feel the cold from the tombstones.
There were lots of small stone building
with tightly shut doors, and tombstones.....statues and fountains...and
none of the fountains had water, just bluish-green stains. The angel statues
were massive and ominous and I had the feeling they were watching us, so I
tried not to stare at anything too long. I felt that if I looked at something
for any length of time that the statues would sense it and I would be
vulnerable to them. I feared them. They were all lady statues. This was like
being in a movie...all the movies I had ever seen...it seemed so cliché.
Piano music was playing softly in the background, but I couldn't identify the
tune....sounded familiar, though....
My mother and I continued
down a seemingly long and endless hallway...there were windows everywhere, and
they were all along just the one wall....and in front of some of the window
were cathedras, beautifully carved wood and rich fabric. We could only look
through the windows in-between the cathedras. The music stopped....the
wind stopped... all sound stopped...I could feel nothing. And I wasn't afraid
of the feelings I had.
We happened on to one
window, in-particular, and it gave way to a portion of the graveyard that
seemed to be set apart...it appeared to belong to Stevie Nicks, a favorite
singer of mine. I was devastated. In front of the small stone building was a
huge statue of a woman carved from marble. She looked as though she had been
running and something froze her in place. But, her flowing, wind-blown
clothing was not made of marble, it was real Chiffon, and her hair was real,
too.....and the hair and her clothing were blowing in the wind, blowing back
from her body and her face, exposing her closed eyes.
There was no sound. It
seemed that I could have access to that place, but I didn't want to go in
there. It was like some sort of shrine to her. I didn't want to know if she
was really dead. I had the feeling that if I didn't stay here that everything
would be alright...that I could erase all of this. My mother never said a word
during the entire journey. I could sense from her that she felt nothing and
made no reaction to anything....you know, like in real life.....
January 31, 1998
Copyright © Cathy Palmer-Scruggs / Catt Alexander
Table Of Contents
Dreams Intro Page
A Snake, And The Color Yellow
Gothic Graveyard The
Barns And Tunnels
Photo images by Catt