The dream occurred one night last week. It seems that I was engaged in piloting a small hot air balloon over different parts of the United States, jumping from city to city at will. I recall vividly that the balloon was a small portable craft that could be folded up and transported easily from place to place, even carried in a backpack. The dream sounds odd, indeed, but it was actually quite pleasurable.
On one of my stops, I flew over what was supposed to be Memphis but actually looked more like Atlanta. As with many of my dreams, a sizeable group of friends was on hand, and we all were camped out at a large timberframe lodge somewhere on the outskirts of town. Of course, the group of friends was comprised of people who I know have never met one another, but that made it all the more interesting.
I know from whence this dream stems. I have not traveled much lately, and being for the most part a person who likes being on the road, I think I am feeling a degree of frustration at being in one place for such a long time. Interesting how the mind makes up for what is not happening in real life!