This is a memory that comes up clearly when I think of my dream song.
I am sitting in my sandbox, not sure how old I am. Somewhere between three and six I guess because the sandbox looks pretty big. Now it wasn’t one of those tiny green turtle sandboxes, my father dug it out and filled it himself, but still it all felt a lot bigger when I was smaller.
I had made a landscape. I loved making landscapes and just saying the word made me feel all grown up. The sandbox was now filled with little sand hills and sand mountains, sticks for a forest and some sand bumps for houses. A hand wide crevice snaked through it all, intended to be a river. Mum didn’t let me have any water to put in it and I didn’t want to waste my lemonade. So it was a dry river.
The overlapping shadows from the trees overhead made the sand all different colours of grey and greyish brown. The layers of shadow dimmed the light and warmth of a summer’s day, making me feel sheltered and secure. The sandbox was my favourite place to be in summer. I used to sneak out my dolls and always cried when they got sand in their hair. I guess that’s why it wasn’t allowed.
I had no dolls that day, so instead I walked around with the index and middle finger of my right hand, creating small footsteps on the hills, between the trees and around the houses.
Then I did the same for my friend, who couldn’t do that himself.
Odd. There the memory stops. I can remember that a friend was there, that it was a he, and that I always had to help him. Nothing more though.
I’ll ask my mum. Maybe she knows who that was. It might not mean anything but it is a place to start.
Sandbox is a fragment of a longer, ongoing story where Alice is trying to find out more about the dreams that leave her feeling lost waking up, while trying to enjoy her life. You can read her blog on DaisyCrown Dreams and meet Alice on Twitter @daisycrowndream.
For me it is a way to practice writing, experiment with interactive storytelling and character development. There’s more to come 😉