I am visiting a place south of my home, somewhere off the highway, near Kentucky. I’ve traveled here many times before, and have memorized a mental map of the roads. There’s a granite quarry, no longer mined, filled up with spring and rain water, crystal clear.

I remember swimming in this water during another dream. We swam under the water, and entered a secret cave.

My friend Amanda and her boyfriend live here. “Have you guys been to the quarry?”

“No, we’ve never gone.”

“Why not? I can’t believe you’ve never gone swimming there. It’s so beautiful and refreshing there.”