Would you capture yourself a dream?

Have you ever dreamed of a journey to the most beautiful land of them all? Have you ever pictured a moment where life seems to stop, and the moment stops for eternity?

I have. I dream of it all the time.

I fantasize about it while walking the streets of this small town I call home. I fantasize about the uniqueness of the beautiful scenery and the colors. Ah, colors. The only colors I see walking through these bland lanes are different shades of brown and gray. I can at least catch a little bit of green in the nearby forest, which is, to this day, the most adventurous place I’ve ever been to.

I wish there was more to see, more to breathe in and enjoy, more to take a photograph of. My grandma used to love photographing. But then she got sick and now all she can do is sit at home and wait for me to bring her some photographs of the sights I’ve seen. Unfortunately, having to take care of her, the best I can do is go to the forest and hope for a bird to land on a tree, or a flower to blossom from the ground, or a fish to suddenly appear in the little pond hiding among the trees. But there were no birds, no flowers, and no fishes, ever. And full of hope I still walk those same lanes looking to capture the best sight of the day and bring it home for my grandma. And for myself, to see the light in her eyes as she observed the glimpse of the outside world through a photograph frame once again. But I still wish, and hope, for more. If I could only travel to the place of my dreams and take hundreds of photographs, take all of the sights back home to share with her. But these sights are still just dreams. Dreams I cannot share with her. Dreams I cannot explain, or sing about, or write about, as pictures are the only thing reaching her heart these days. So I walk the same monotonous, boring, gray streets all over again, full of hope and desire for something different, something dream-like. Yet again, I’m passing it with nothing to see, wondering if the forest will reveal something new for me and my grandma to see. As I was walking with my hopes slowly dwindling as everything I saw were the same old trees, I looked up and saw something peeping out from behind a three bush. It seemed to me like a photograph.

I must have lost one, I thought to myself. But, when did I lose it? How long has it been up there? And most importantly, how did it get up there? I was never keen on climbing trees. No matter how exciting I thought it would be. I was always afraid.

Could there be someone else taking pictures in this forest? I wouldn’t say so. I’m here every day and I never saw anybody. It seemed like I was always alone. As though people in this town didn’t care for the lightness and freshness of the trees. After all, there is not a single garden, a single tree, or at least a flower in the whole town.

Are people even living here?

Filled with questions in my head, I was eager to know what is on that picture and find out if it was mine. But that fear of climbing is the first barrier I’ll have to overcome. I stood there still for what seemed like an eternity, looking at that tree standing before me like the biggest mountain of them all. And I’ve seen none, so how should I manage to climb one now? I finally snapped out of that trance, turned around, ready to leave and not think about it at all. As I walked away, shivers went through my spine, I felt the touch, I sensed a warm, but chilling breeze, I heard a sound, I smelled a scent I’d never experienced before. It made me cover my eyes, sparing the sense of sight, like a little kid thinking not seeing will make it go away. And it did go away. I opened my eyes, the sight stabbing me like it wanted to kill me. There it was, the tree standing tall again, right in front of me.

But I walked away, I know I did.

Did I?

I turned away again, walked a few steps and it was all happening again. I felt that same sharp pain in my spine, the warm touch to my face, the breeze, the sweet smell. And there was I, closing my eyes once again, but opening them more quickly. The mountain tree and I were still standing face to face.

What was happening?

Innocent fear has turned into terror. I did hope for a more interesting day, and more interesting sights, but wasn’t looking for this. I wanted something dream-like, not expecting the nightmare. At least the barrier of just climbing that tree didn’t seem so big right now; the bigger problem was walking away from it. And even though I was still afraid of that climb, I decided to do it. After all, I thought that the tree had stolen me forever so I should at least find out what that photograph, that brought me here in the first place, shows. With sweaty palms and trembling legs, I managed to climb a tree for the first time in my 22-year-old life. All of a sudden the fear was gone, and excitement overcame. My body and mind got more relaxed and more confident of the possibilities. But even though I climbed a tree, that photograph was still afar. I was entangled in the bushes of a very long and thin branch, facing away from me so I wouldn’t be able to even peek and see just a little piece of it. I tried shaking the branch, but the photograph didn’t move at all as the branch leafs gathered around it and held it tightly. Trying not to put too much weight on the branch, I got closer just a bit, and the branch snapped. Mesmerized by the sun shining upon the falling branch with leafs dancing all around it, I didn’t even realize I was about to fall myself. I fell hard, not really knowing how. Just for a moment, I was lying on the floor, watching the speckles of the sky, disappointed that my first trip up on a tree ended this way. Then I got excited because the photograph was finally within my reach. I got up, still frazzled from the fall, not seeing quite well. I managed to focus and tossed myself immediately on the branch lying on the floor. I searched through the leaves frantically. The photograph wasn’t there.

That’s not possible. How is it possible?

I searched again, and again, and again. I gave so much today, I did things I never thought I would, and I still can’t reach my goal. Desperately I looked to the sky and there I saw it. I saw the same branch, on the same tree, with the photograph entangled in its branches again. Laughter came over me. I laughed hard and loud. I laughed so the whole world could hear me and then… I fainted.

After, who knows how long, my mind started to wake. Still confused, thinking it was all a dream, I expected to see my old ceiling in my bedroom, in my grandma’s old house, in the boring old town I call home. But when I opened my eyes I was surrounded by the same forest, only this time covered in darkness of the night. My mind tried to rationalize everything that happened, convincing me some parts really did happen, but others must be imaginary and inflicted by the obvious physical trauma I experienced while trying to climb a tree.

What a fool, I thought to myself.

I got up, feeling the pain of every wound on my body. My head was hurting. I felt like a bullet had shot me right through the brain. I touched my head but there were no traces of blood on my hands. I felt a relief, a comfort, knowing I would be okay; I just had to come home. Home! All of a sudden my grandma comes to mind, and my throat tightens up as I know she has been left alone for so long. I looked around me to find my camera so I could finally take at least one photograph to take to her. It’s been a long time since she saw the outside world covered with night, and this will be the perfect opportunity. As I kept looking, I saw a moonlight brightening a spot on the forest path, and something shining right in the middle of it. I decided to get closer and to see better.

Is that a photograph?

Everything rushed through my head and I quickly turned my head to look up on that tree again. I saw that branch, that same long and thin branch that caused feelings of curiosity and fear at the same time. But the photograph was no longer there. My body, almost instinctively, started to run toward the moonlight spot that now held, I would guess, that same photograph that was up on that tree before. But no matter how long I ran, that moonlight and that photograph kept their distance. Focusing only on catching them, not looking at anything around me, I was all of a sudden standing in the street, looking at my home entrance, moonlight shining only upon my house with pure darkness surrounding everything else. I approached the doorstep, opened the door, and saw my grandma, sitting on a couch, with the TV still on, tea that I left beside her still untouched, and surprisingly, fire in the fireplace still burning. The only thing different from when I left her is she holding a photograph in her steady hands, staring without a blink. A photograph I didn’t give her. I approached her fearfully like I was approaching that tree back in the forest. As my grandma held it strongly, I could finally catch it. As I touched the photograph, it was immediately released from my grandma’s grip landing in my hand like it was meant for me to hold it.

I could finally see it!

But, the sight, the terrible sight… I wished I never saw. It was me, lying on the floor, under that same tree. I wasn’t looking at the sky, I didn’t look at all. I was lying in my own pile of blood, with half of my head completely shattered, and the other side completely intact. The reality finally started to kick in. I think I remembered everything.

Those dreams, those beautiful dreams I wanted to take photographs of… those were not dreams. Those dreams captured the beautiful life I left behind that day. I could see it clearly now. My house, my beautiful house, was now full of colors. The path to the forest was full of beautiful flowers to capture, colorful houses, and fences. The forest looked even more beautiful than before: birds flying around, chirping sweet melodies; all kinds of flowers blooming everywhere, attracting a variety of butterflies; the pond bigger, not hiding behind trees anymore, and full of water life.

But, why do I keep looking down? Why am I not breathing in the beauty that surrounds me?

Look up! Look up, you fool!

Pick up that camera!

Capture the moment!

This beauty certainly is worth remembering forever. Nothing is boring about this place at all. No matter how small, or the “same thing every day” town this is, there is so much to see, to capture. Capture the details. A bird on a branch, or maybe two the next day, and six through the weeks... the family created before you, capturing it forever. Capture those flowers, those trees, getting bigger, more colorful. Capture the change, the growth, and the passage of time. But how could you capture it when you’re not seeing it?!

I really did go to the forest that day looking for something more exciting, looking for an adventure. But I did not see or appreciate all the adventure that was already surrounding me. I really did want to take a frame of a dream-like image, not noticing all the dream-like nature. I found the biggest tree I could find and decided to climb as high as I thought I could and capture something magnificent. Not for anyone, just for myself. I was afraid, but determined. I climbed to the highest branch. Looking beyond all the trees in the forest, I had a feeling I saw eternity. I took my camera, trying to steady my shaking hands to capture this magnificent moment. The camera snapped. As the photograph started to come out I saw it was quite different from what I see with my own two eyes.

Could that be… m..?

The photograph slipped from my hands. As it was falling I tried to reach and catch it when I slipped and fell.

I was lying on the ground, looking at the sky when I noticed the picture stuck to the branch on the tree, me still not really sure if I saw it right. I fainted for the first time. I woke up, night covering the forest with moonlight shining upon me. I did manage, while still lying down, to touch my head. And I really did think I was going to be alright, as I touched the side of my head that was intact. I stayed awake for some time, looking at the photograph that was now lying on the floor right beside me, turned upside down.

I think I can see something written on the back of it…

“…dream?”

I fainted again.

Or should I say… I fell asleep for an eternity.

I was there left alone, fading, with time standing still, for a very long time. Was I ever even found?

My head snapped again, bringing me back to the gray life I now, for some deranged reasons, call home. I found myself sitting on the couch with the photograph still in my hands. It took me a moment to adapt to the reality of not knowing what real is anymore. I noticed my grandma in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

Oh, that’s not her.

She was never here. It was always just me. I guess I always imagined myself dying old.

But what was that writing behind the photograph? Is it really there?

I turned the photograph, and it asked me a question:

“Would you capture yourself a dream?”

I whispered:

“I would rather live and capture the magnificence of reality.”