Last night I dreamed:

Of working with a team on an archeological dig at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. At times the Colorado River would be so fierce that it was lifting huge boulders above our heads, scraping them along the sides of the canyon. When the river ebbed away, our camp furniture was still intact. The river would ice and become a flowing river of blue slushy and I was trapped inside a crack for a time and had to dig myself out through the soft ice. I lived in a shack attached to the side of the canyon and there were rooms outfitted like a silent movie of the Arabian Nights.