Dreams June 4, 2012
Going through the school is like going through a maze, but we finally get down the steps and go out to a broad patio on the school campus. More steps going down; we are going to the cafeteria. Then I stop and turn around. I look back at the school, sitting beyond the wide flat steps. It is gorgeous. A beautiful low building, elegant. What a treat it would be to go to this school. In fact, everything is beautiful. Tall, white barked trees have cascades of glistening leaves. I can see each leaf in miraculous detail. I’m in awe.
“It’s the light. It’s the Nigerian light that makes it so special,” someone explains.
Indeed. I think of when I replaced my old incandescent light bulbs with ones that mimic natural light. How the world became brighter, clearer. Vivid. That is what the Nigerian light does — the world pops out at you in vivid detail with glorious colors. I wish to live with Nigerian light. Always.
(Note — A couple of hours after I woke in the morning, I heard that a Nigerian plane crashed yesterday, killing all aboard and many on the ground. Did I hear that on the news last night? No, I don’t remember hearing about it. I don’t remember seeing any news last night. I don’t remember hearing about Nigeria. Maybe . . .?)