All night dreams about water falling over rocks.  Fast washing of water of the tops of rocks, everything falling to a lower state of energy.  Each fall coming after the next, and each slowing the fall of water till it rests in stillness on the river below.  It can’t be falling and falling and the moss absorbs the energy.  The moss on the rocks is part of the gravity well of the water.  Slowly the water gives it’s movement and energy to the rock and moss.  The moss grows strong from the weight and pressure, while the rock is ground down.  Generations of moss come and go, flourish and die and are reborn from single spores carried in the wind.  The movement of the water is all stored and passed beyond itself.  The water carries the movement, and the movement carries the power.

Then the water fell from the rocks to the pond and everything stopped.  The world stopped and the water stopped and the dream seemed to stop.  It wasn’t over though with the water, it wasn’t done when the movement froze.  Everything kept going in the dream.  It spooled out like someone forgot to shut a camera down after a scene had ended.  The characters had left, and the motion had stopped, but the film kept recording everything that happened.  I watched and watched the water for hours.  Waiting to see something happen, anything to move again and nothing changed.  Was I the water, was the movement me, was I paused now?  That is the funny things about water, and about dreams I guess.  They seem still, but are always moving.  Even when the current seems stopped, the water is moving.  The changes in flow might be small, but something is always happening.  Water isn’t the resting state.  The water slowly is pulled into the air, tiny bits falling up into the sky.  And the ground pulls it away too.  The water is always moving somewhere.

That is what I dreamed, and where my memories were stored, locked into a waterfall i heard all night.  Maybe the dream is something from when i was not in this bed, not frozen in place.  Maybe it was some sound coming through the walls from somewhere else.  Maybe a noise or a remembered dream.  Did someone come in while i was sleeping, while my mind was on other things.  Could someone have been in the room, and made a noise like water?  Did someone wash into the room and leave, or was i alone all night?  I should be able to remember, but my thoughts at night seem to be still and silent.  I remember being awake, and I remember my dreams, but I can’t remember anything between the two.  There are these holes that open up and nothing is there when i try to think of them.  Blank spaces of midnight and silence.  Nothing moving or changing, and then i go from that to a dream of water and sound.  Then back to this bed and the place i am now.