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Apr. 16th, 2020 11:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kareinaA lot of my friends are commenting about dreaming alot recently. The dream I remember waking up to the other day involved waiting on a road for a weird snowplough to finish clearing it so we could go past.
Unlike normal snowploughs this one had its scoop at the end of a long arm (like a digger, but oriented to push like a plough rather than scoop stuff up). I watched it work for a few repeats: set the blade down and move abruptly forward, pushing snow to and over the cliff edge, then stop abruptly at just the right distance to lift the arm and bang it against the cliff edge to be certain it was empty, before backing up and repeating the procedure several more times.
Then the pattern changed: instead of stopping in the right spot, that abrupt hopping rush forward ended with the front half of the tracks resting out in the air. There was a brief pause, like in a cartoon, while the lady driving it (from a seat on the top of the machine, with no canopy or roof over her), started trying to move the arm back enough to keep the center of mass far enough back as to not fall.
It didn't work, and the machine slowly toppled over the edge, to bounce against the steep slope on its way down the valley. I started to turn to back down the road to see if we could help, but David said not to bother, she was gone, and there was no way she could have surrived that.
Then I woke up, thinking the symbolism was a bit transparent...
Unlike normal snowploughs this one had its scoop at the end of a long arm (like a digger, but oriented to push like a plough rather than scoop stuff up). I watched it work for a few repeats: set the blade down and move abruptly forward, pushing snow to and over the cliff edge, then stop abruptly at just the right distance to lift the arm and bang it against the cliff edge to be certain it was empty, before backing up and repeating the procedure several more times.
Then the pattern changed: instead of stopping in the right spot, that abrupt hopping rush forward ended with the front half of the tracks resting out in the air. There was a brief pause, like in a cartoon, while the lady driving it (from a seat on the top of the machine, with no canopy or roof over her), started trying to move the arm back enough to keep the center of mass far enough back as to not fall.
It didn't work, and the machine slowly toppled over the edge, to bounce against the steep slope on its way down the valley. I started to turn to back down the road to see if we could help, but David said not to bother, she was gone, and there was no way she could have surrived that.
Then I woke up, thinking the symbolism was a bit transparent...