This post was inspired by a posting on Book Lust, one of my favourite blogs.
The other night I had a dream about peering in the windows of the most perfect desirable bookstore you could imagine. It had an old fashioned frontage with tall windows edged with leadlight. Inside the polished dark wood shelves went all the way from the floor to a really high ceiling, with those cool ladders on wheels for reaching the top shelves. Instead of a window display there were high backed wing chairs upholstered in red. One book caught my eye, facing out on a high shelf near the window... it was a super large format book of photos, hard cover, cloth bound, embossed gold title which was just the date: 1984 and the word 'Moke' who I took to be the author/photographer.
The bookstore was embedded in a long, complicated and highly significant dream which the date on the book's cover helped me to interpret after I awoke. I couldn't go into the store because a) I was on my way to the Dunedin* airport to catch a plane and b) it was closed that early in the morning, and I knew the time because the street was crowded with people hustling to get to work (unlike me, meandering to the airport with no sense of urgency).
* I lived in Dunedin 1984-1991