Coleridge, one of the great exponents of English romantic poetry, once stated that it does not matter what we dream, since the dream always seeks explanations.

Dreaming, we could say that it is another way of communicating with the collective unconscious, without having to unravel a complicated symbolic diagnosis, derived from that struggle of desires and frustrations in which we debate daily.

There are places, which at the same time fulfill the work of metaphorical placebos, that however humble they may seem at first glance, contain the power to make us dream and dream at the same time, being, in addition, that port to which we return, again and again, hoping to find a glimpse of beauty, peace and tranquility in our no less metaphorical and daily pilgrimage.

Who knows, after all, if maybe yesterday's dreams are today's daydreams.

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