The Kisses of the Stars

The drop of water hit the side of her nose and ran down to her lips. It tasted sweet and cool.

The shock of the sensation woke her out of a dreamless sleep. She took a sharp breath in and was assaulted by a strong damp, earthy smell. It was almost overwhelming in its complex nature. It seemed to hit many parts of her nose, the back of her throat, the back of her tongue. And now there was a richness of flavour gradually awakening her mouth. There was the smell of hummus, the smell of gum and wattle, the smell of rain, the smell of moss, the taste of sweetness and of bitterness.

She’d had a dream like this when she was nine. She dreamt she was in a field, lying in the sun. Everything had an exaggerated reality. The colours were somehow brighter, the breeze deliciously sensual on her skin. The feeling of the earth on her back seemed to envelop her. She turned to the side and could see into a clump of long grass and field flowers. In her dream she imagined walking through the grass and disappearing into a different world just like Alice.

It reminded her that as a child she used to lie close to the earth and imagine a whole insect world of insect cities. The backyard became a whole country with mountains and deserts, forests and glades. She was the freest she had ever felt. This world was her creation and she could do whatever she wished.

So this must be a lucid dream. She tried to move but had no control – she was awake in a dream. She relaxed with this thought. She felt safe. In fact the sensation was quite ecstatic, something to be savoured, something regained.

When had she felt like this before? The question changed the dream. The earthy smell disappeared and she was six. She was on a swing. Her father was pushing her and as each swing took her higher she was getting lost in the sensation. She knew she was safe with her father there and part of her knew she was holding on tightly, so she was able to let another part of her soar with each swing. The pleasure kept building at each swing and she could imagine herself letting go and soaring into the sky.

There were other times of letting go, of running free as the breeze, of holding her breath and diving under the water. One warm night she snuck out, took off all her clothes and lay naked under the stars. She remembers going into a kind of trance where the earth felt like the back of some living thing and the stars were angels dropping small kisses on her flesh.

She couldn’t remember when she stopped having this feeling; somehow she remembered it always being there. It was just that another part of her stopped thinking about it and that part kind of took over.

When did the backyard cease to become another country?