Disappearing Dreams.

One of the problems of getting older is that it takes your dreams away. And I’m speaking, as you might already have surmised, of daydreams.

 I’ve always been the type inclined to daydream and make no apology for it. What was it Poe said?

 Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Quite so. And there are different kinds of daydream. My own favourite is what might unkindly be characterised as the Walter Mitty type – fond imaginings of sometimes fantastical scenarios which might actually be gained if I were lucky enough or played my cards right. And some of them actually were, though most were simply too improbable and fell by the wayside.

Things are different now. Improbability has, for the most part, been elevated to impossibility, and all because of age. And that’s a shame because, as you become older and more reclusive, daydreams are usually about the only thing left capable of capturing your imagination and encouraging some level of enthusiasm.