In a dream this morning, I awoke on a patch of grass in California... specifically, an island southwest of Baja California. I awoke, and you were next to me. I awoke to the site of a large, snaking bridge over water, to absurdly blue waters and equally green hillsides, and strange sculpture.
I asked you, "Where are we? What day is it?"
You replied, "It's Sunday! We're in California!" You were laughing, because we had been there for days. I had no recollection of leaving New York, the trip, the things we'd done in the prior couple of days.
We immediately began climbing some rock walls. There were children about, climbing and laughing, and I had to be careful not to curse as I expressed my astonishment and disbelief over where I was and how I'd gotten there. When we got to the top of this mountainside, there was a Buddhist monastery, and we found a bell no bigger than a cereal bowl that made a sound so loud it could be heard all down the side of the mountain.
"This place is fantastic! I wish I'd brought my camera," I lamented.