ailea

i dreamt of a place i've been before, even though the memory is vague and blurred. i'm by a pond, everything is grey; near dusk in the winter. there is no breeze. there are weeds growing tall along with the grass, around old trees, some dead. there is a field of lush, long grass stretching over hills and ending at nearby mountains. i remember the greytones and sadness of the place, yet the settling peace and finality it held. i want to draw it, but i'm tired...maybe tomorrow.