I was in some kind of building that overlooked the ocean. But not merely overlooked it: one side of the building had an enormous cylindrical window beneath which the ocean waves, perhaps 20 or so feet, splashed against the building. The ocean was right there. It was just beautiful--and for those of you who have, for some odd reason, actually read my journal long enough, you might remember the significance the ocean has for me. Looking out over the ocean, it was just the huge ocean, and the even bigger sky, that's all you could see out this enormous floor to ceiling window, that must have been 30 feet high, and at least twice as wide. I don't really know what the building was--I was too busy overwhelmed by the beauty of the ocean, and the rest of the dream, to keep in mind what the building was--but I think I either lived there, or I worked there, but the former seems more likely. There were other people there, either housemates or coworkers, depending on what the building was. I believe we got word via the news that a severe storm was coming our way, and we watched as the sky darkened with the heaviest, most amazing clouds circling in above us. As the wind rampaged in, the ocean waves grew bigger and more violent, and they seemed to compliment the fierce clouds right above them, which came down lower and lower over us and over the water. Watching this, I knew I needed to be heading for safety, even though I knew it was just a dream, there was still a reason--albeit, a dreamsense reason, of course--to head for shelter, for the sake of my life, but the scene was spectacular and mesmerizing, and only became more so. The clouds circled round and round, thickening, darkening, becoming alive and angry, and I could hear the storm growling. I watched as the eye of the storm developed right above the ocean outside, and the winds over the ocean created a whirlpool that deepened and widened as the eye above it grew stronger. In the dream, I could feel my heart beating faster and harder, and my breathing, too, and I was smiling, because this might just very well be the most amazing thing I'll ever see in my life. The storm grew so strong that the clouds formed a funnel that came down into the water, creating a magnificent typhoon--unrealistic, of course, since, from such a window, even if such a building remained standing, one would not have been able to witness what I witnessed, as the waves from the typhoon would have been too high. Then again, at some point during the dream, during this wonderful scene, I was no longer even in the building, but floating above the water, in the midst of the storm, just watching it--which, according to dreamsense, seemed perfectly normal at that time. I cannot even express how breathtaking and beautiful all of this was, and I felt that in the dream, there was no fear of my life, I felt no danger that I might die, there was simply the witnessing of this majestic power of nature, of the ocean and sky together, creating a beauty that, in reality, no human eyes can ever see. (Yes yes, simulations, of course, but it's not really the same, is it?) I was captivated the whole time, just about unable to breathe, unable to think about anything else at all, my mind entirely fixed on the typooning, thick, grey clouds and blackened waves, the accompanying roar.

And just as soon as it had rolled in overhead, it began to dissipate, break apart, and in no time, it was gone, and the ocean calmed again, the clouds thinned and lightened, and somewhere behind the patchy white sky was the dimming sun. I was a little sad, a little lonely, but, there was something else, perhaps, a kind of relief, not the kind after an event that you're glad is over, but rather, one that you are deeply appreciative for its occurrence, not its end, but the fact that it did happen, because for whatever reason, life is a little more meaningful now that it's happened.