The Pond in the Forest

I had a dream once, a long time ago. I was walking through a dense forest. Bright sunlight filtered through the thick foliage. Sunbeams danced throughout the emerald ocean. As I walked I came upon a crystal-clear, blue pond. I could jump across the pond; it wasn’t very large. The water was so pristine that I knelt down to drink straight from it. That was when I realized the pool of water was much deeper than I initially assumed. In fact, it was so deep I could not see the bottom. Dark, deep water that I cannot see the bottom of elicits a primeval terror within me, and at first I shrunk from the water’s edge. But the pool was full of exotic fish; anemones and coral were clinging to the shelf-like rocks jutting out from the sides of the pool’s walls. There was so much vibrant color and the sparse sunlight coming down from above made the pool’s contents flash every now and again like the glitter of jewels and gems. The trepidation within me gave way to a much keener curiosity and appreciation for what the pond was and what it held inside its walls. I sat for hours observing the fish and other visual stimuli, until observing wasn’t enough. I wanted to enter the pond and dive down to find more, to learn more about it. Not wanting to soak my clothes, I stripped naked and approached the edge of the pool. My toes were caressed by the calm surface of the water as I tested the temperature. The water was cool, yet it didn’t chill my body as I allowed myself to gently slip into it. I can only hold my breath for a minute or so, but I ducked my head underwater and submerged myself completely to explore what I could in that minute. Before I could realize what was happening, I was sinking rapidly past the shelves of sea life and the water was becoming darker and darker. I woke up in a panic, but the image of the pond in the forest continues still to allure and frighten me.