Savannah is where the road trip turned into a mini-vacation. Again, Mary Jane made coffee in the room, then we laced our sneakers and headed out to see what we could see. We had been here together many years ago when we decided to quit our jobs and move to California. Don’t ask why we left New England and headed south on our trip to the West Coast. We don’t really have an answer to that question, but it could explain why we ran out of money in Colorado, ended up taking waitressing jobs in Vail for the ski season, and never did make it to California.
I love this city. We snapped dozens of pictures. The beautiful homes. The quiet, shady squares. The cathedral of St. John the Baptist in Lafayette Square was covered with scaffolding. Inside we were in awe of the stained glass, the magnificent pipe organ, and the ceiling.
At one of the fountains we met a man with long dreadlocks, dressed in all black. He was writing in a journal and told me he was a fountain poet. “There are a lot of poets around here, ” he said. “We find our inspiration in these parks.” I told him about writing a novel, quitting my job, selling my house, and moving to Florida. He wished me luck.
I have definitely dreamed of this place. The memory of one dream in particular began to float around in the fog of my memories. I have a recurring dream of being lost in a strange city. Often it is a city like Bangkok and I am in a boat, similar to a Chinese junk, which changes to an open air bus and then suddenly I am on foot. I never know what my exact destination is in the dream, I just know I am not getting there. Sometimes the city isn’t Bangkok, it’s Savannah with it’s stately homes and beautiful porches and long windows that open onto a patio.
I have always believed dreams send messages. I believe these lost dreams come to me when I am unhappy with my current situation and they are telling me I am lost on my life’s journey to find fulfillment and happiness. I hope when I arrive in Florida and have more time to pursue my waking dream of writing, I won’t have these dreams anymore. I will be living the dream.
Yes, I am somewhat superstitious. I believe there are no coincidences. Just like Sophie, in my novel The Reverse Commute, I wish upon stars. Sophie’s dream is to leave her difficult life behind and run a bed and breakfast in the Caribbean. I snapped the photo of a Savannah B&B and believe it is a sign.