The stuff of which dreams are made on

Prospero:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158

The Traditions gang has just returned from Atlantis, the Bahamian resort and mystical namesake of the island mentioned by Plato. Like Prospero of Shakespeare's The Tempest, the writer knows that the any trip is but short entertainment that soon melts "into thin air". The palm trees, the golden sun and white sand, the gentle stir of a balmy breeze all fade in time. Life's quickening pace calls us back too soon.

Yet, we can still dream on in a Stressless recliner. Our dreams magically transport us to Atlantis and those sweet memories of sun and sand. At a younger age, the writer would hum himself to sleep with the words of his childhood, "Merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream."