Last Night, a recurring dream

I just flew into Montana. The land was so beautiful. It was like the sky and the land wanted to meet, there was nothing between them, no space, the sky was falling.

There was this huge tower, and I wanted to get to the top. I climbed and climbed. And then I peered over and I was three thousand feet high, looking down. But I was even higher than that, I could see Nebraska, I could see Colorado. Was I in space?

I needed to get down. The view changed. Suddenly, I was looking down at a beach from what felt like a top story of a sky scrapper. But what kind of structure was I on? It was not well built, there was scaffolding and haphazard ladders. Suddenly, I was a boy, I was there on that structure with my best friend, we needed to get down. It was a perilous journey. We could never tell what would support our weight, what would snap if we shifter our weight. As we climbed further and further down, we got younger and younger. When we finally reached the ground with the help of my friend's older brother, we were toddlers. We were only interested in wrestling. 

But climbing down dangerous ladders, I felt, while I was in the dream, that I had been there many times before.