Impossibly Ideal Island

Dearest Rachel –

There’s not much to tell you in the way of a story, as far as last nights dream went. To be honest, I’m going to say that the location itself was essentially the story – and how, upon reflection, it would probably be almost impossible for such a place to exist, at least, given all the specific details I recall.

I’m pretty sure the dream was prompted more by the events of yesterday afternoon than any consideration of your beloved Middle Bass, although I’m fairly sure that what little I recall of the terrain was based on its own. Hey, it’s the only island I’ve spent any great length of time on. No, I’m pretty sure my dreams of islands had more to do with the girls coming over one last time before I set out on vacation.

That’s kind of funny in and of itself, because it seems they made a point of coming over before my trip because they’d confused one trip with the other. While I have just reserved a spot on that extended cruise – just one leg of it, mind you, not the whole nine months – that one is still nearly two years away. You have to reserve a spot on it as it becomes available, as they apparently get snapped up pretty quickly. It’s not my preferred method of booking a trip – at this point, you know I’d just as soon keep the anticipation period to a minimum – but you have to do what you have to do sometimes. Anyway, the one I’m leaving on this Saturday (with a Friday night stay in Florida beforehand) is only a little longer than a week, so they wouldn’t be seeing me for the next two weekends, at any rate. So there’s that. But I did describe both itineraries to them, which are both full of islands to visit. So that might have led to this.

This dream island, however, had a fair number of similarities with the ones in Lake Erie, as it was fairly small (perhaps three to five miles in length, east to west, and two or three miles north and south), and – while my mind’s eye didn’t dwell all that much upon terrain – fairly flat upon the surface, suggesting a glacially-carved location, as opposed to a mountainous volcanic rock. This would prove to be the first geographic anomaly about this place, as it seemed to be one where boats could harbor for the winter – which is definitely not something you could do on the Erie islands.

There was an inlet on the southeastern corner of the island, leading to an almost fjord-like passage into its interior, such as it had. Barely half a mile in, this inlet opened up toward the north to create a natural harbor, protected from either the sea or lake surrounding it on three sides. I can’t remember if it had been built up into a marina; it would seem odd not to, given its natural setup, but I could not tell how built up this island was. Given its temperate-to-tropical location, and already evident advantages as real estate, it seems absurd that it wouldn’t have been, but I probably imagined a fairly limited population, much like on Middle Bass itself. Why so few people would make a home here should have been questioned, but you know what dreams are like.

The gamblet continued beyond this harbor, sneaking its way first northwest, then due west, ultimately diving south and carving out a second, smaller harbor a half mile away from, and parallel to the western coast. Again, due to the narrowness of the inlet at this point, where it almost acted like a four-lane road (but for boats – and fancy ones, at that), this harbor was almost entirely protected from the elements, with elegant homes lining the western strip of land on either side, having direct access to either this second harbor or the sea (or lake) itself. This was clearly the wealthy section of the island, being so well protected from the vicissitudes of nature.

Like I said, there was no story to this place, only an image of what it looked like on a map, and vague impressions of what it might be like on the surface. You’d think a place like this must exist in a number of different places on the planet, as it has islands all over its surface like an acne-ridden teenager.

But the fact that I somehow knew that the place didn’t freeze over in winter conflicts with its relatively flat surface that I pictured. Most tropical islands tend to be of volcanic construction, and therefore mountainous and difficult to traverse. Either that, or they would be narrow, circular atolls that barely clear the surface of the water, and would be decidedly less than secure against the elements. Flat islands, built by glacial scrapings from ice ages past, would be located at latitudes that would be subject to the entire variety of seasons – including winter, and all that entails. And the fjord-like inlet, which for all intents and purposes could be mistaken for a river, save for the direction of its flow, seems characteristic of near-arctic landscapes.

So there’s just too much going on in this land mass’ composition to place it anywhere on earth that would be consistent with everything I pictured being upon it. Perhaps the inlet was man-made, although its meandering course seemed somewhat impractical for one to engineer – better to have it go straight along the southern portion of the island before turning north and creating the second harbor further in. It’s all a handful of little things, but it’s enough to make one question whether something like this could actually exist naturally – apart from the natural course of imagination.

I’m fairly confident you would’ve loved a place like this. Provided, of course, that it existed. Maybe you have a place like this, where your mansion is?

At any rate, honey, I’ll talk to you later. Keep an eye out for me.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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