Prompt: The meadow stretches endlessly, a sea of wildflowers swaying gently in the whisper of a breeze. The late afternoon sun dips low, casting long, golden shadows that dance across the earth. The scent of lavender and freshly turned soil lingers in the air, blending with the faint hum of cicadas. At the heart of the field, a young man stands beside an aged oak, its sprawling branches draped with moss like nature's tapestry. His posture is poised yet unguarded, a canvas satchel resting against his hip.
In his hand, he holds a folded map—edges worn and creased by years of use, its markings faded but still legible. The map flutters slightly as if eager to escape, but his grip is firm, confident. His auburn hair glows in the sunlight, tousled by the wind, and his eyes gleam with determination and wonder. At his feet lies a compass, its needle steady, pointing somewhere far and unseen.
He kneels, tucking the map into his bag, and picks up the compass with reverence. With one last glance at the oak, as if drawing strength from its timeless presence, he steps forward, his boots brushing past delicate blooms that lean into his stride. The meadow's edge leads to a dense, mist-laden forest, its towering pines and ancient ferns obscuring the horizon.
As he enters, the air grows cooler, tinged with the earthy aroma of moss and bark. Light filters through the canopy in fractured beams, dappling the path ahead in an ever-changing mosaic. Each step echoes softly, a quiet melody of boots on damp soil and the occasional snap of a twig. He smiles, not knowing what lies ahead but savoring the thrill of the unknown.
The forest stretches onward, an intricate labyrinth of mystery and promise. Above him, the sky shifts, stars beginning to pierce the deepening blue. He doesn’t glance back; his journey is forward. In his heart, he carries an unspoken truth: it is not the destination but the courage to embark that defines a soul.
Prompt: The meadow stretches endlessly, a sea of wildflowers swaying gently in the whisper of a breeze. The late afternoon sun dips low, casting long, golden shadows that dance across the earth. The scent of lavender and freshly turned soil lingers in the air, blending with the faint hum of cicadas. At the heart of the field, a young man stands beside an aged oak, its sprawling branches draped with moss like nature's tapestry. His posture is poised yet unguarded, a canvas satchel resting against his hip.
In his hand, he holds a folded map—edges worn and creased by years of use, its markings faded but still legible. The map flutters slightly as if eager to escape, but his grip is firm, confident. His auburn hair glows in the sunlight, tousled by the wind, and his eyes gleam with determination and wonder. At his feet lies a compass, its needle steady, pointing somewhere far and unseen.
He kneels, tucking the map into his bag, and picks up the compass with reverence. With one last glance at the oak, as if drawing strength from its timeless presence, he steps forward, his boots brushing past delicate blooms that lean into his stride. The meadow's edge leads to a dense, mist-laden forest, its towering pines and ancient ferns obscuring the horizon.
As he enters, the air grows cooler, tinged with the earthy aroma of moss and bark. Light filters through the canopy in fractured beams, dappling the path ahead in an ever-changing mosaic. Each step echoes softly, a quiet melody of boots on damp soil and the occasional snap of a twig. He smiles, not knowing what lies ahead but savoring the thrill of the unknown.
The forest stretches onward, an intricate labyrinth of mystery and promise. Above him, the sky shifts, stars beginning to pierce the deepening blue. He doesn’t glance back; his journey is forward. In his heart, he carries an unspoken truth: it is not the destination but the courage to embark that defines a soul.
Would you like to report this Dream as inappropriate?
Prompt:
The meadow stretches endlessly, a sea of wildflowers swaying gently in the whisper of a breeze. The late afternoon sun dips low, casting long, golden shadows that dance across the earth. The scent of lavender and freshly turned soil lingers in the air, blending with the faint hum of cicadas. At the heart of the field, a young man stands beside an aged oak, its sprawling branches draped with moss like nature's tapestry. His posture is poised yet unguarded, a canvas satchel resting against his hip.
In his hand, he holds a folded map—edges worn and creased by years of use, its markings faded but still legible. The map flutters slightly as if eager to escape, but his grip is firm, confident. His auburn hair glows in the sunlight, tousled by the wind, and his eyes gleam with determination and wonder. At his feet lies a compass, its needle steady, pointing somewhere far and unseen.
He kneels, tucking the map into his bag, and picks up the compass with reverence. With one last glance at the oak, as if drawing strength from its timeless presence, he steps forward, his boots brushing past delicate blooms that lean into his stride. The meadow's edge leads to a dense, mist-laden forest, its towering pines and ancient ferns obscuring the horizon.
As he enters, the air grows cooler, tinged with the earthy aroma of moss and bark. Light filters through the canopy in fractured beams, dappling the path ahead in an ever-changing mosaic. Each step echoes softly, a quiet melody of boots on damp soil and the occasional snap of a twig. He smiles, not knowing what lies ahead but savoring the thrill of the unknown.
The forest stretches onward, an intricate labyrinth of mystery and promise. Above him, the sky shifts, stars beginning to pierce the deepening blue. He doesn’t glance back; his journey is forward. In his heart, he carries an unspoken truth: it is not the destination but the courage to embark that defines a soul.
Modifiers:
highly detailed
extremely detailed
fantasy
intricate
rose tones
oil on canvas
very attractive
beautiful
high detail
crisp quality
colourful
matte background
Golden ratio
Jean-Baptiste Monge
impasto
Summer
gorgeous
Dreamscape
happy
Dream-like
Trending
hopeful
rules of third
unfiltered creativity
highly detailed
highly detailed
highly detailed
beautiful
intricate
high detail
fantasy
very attractive
highly detailed
oil on canvas
extremely detailed
highly detailed
fantasy
highly detailed
highly detailed
beautiful
fantasy
More about Writing Dreams in a Flowered Sunset Field
A young man stands in a vibrant field of flowers, writing in a notebook. Behind him, a majestic tree towers against a glowing sunset, creating a serene and enchanting atmosphere.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.