Sunday, 14 June 2020

Dream journal: Twenty-three

This is the twenty-third in a series of posts chronicling dreams I have had. As usual, the date shown is the date the dream was captured. This is usually the morning after the night the dream took place. You can’t wait very long before capturing a dream because it soon disappears from memory.

9 April

Dreamt I was in the bush walking down a hill through the trees with a person who reminded me of a man named Christian who I had met in Ecuador in November 2013. We had to get to the main road and he went off, to the left, down a narrow track marked in the grass by wear and tear, in fact by the action of the feet of walkers. I had wanted to go a different way, to the right, but decided to let Christian take the lead. I consoled myself with mentioning that, if it had been raining, the track we were on would be practically impassable, and that the other path was better-quality.

After we joined the main road we turned left and walked for a while until we came across the wreck of an aeroplane. I could see where it had come in out of the sky, ripping up the shoulder of the road and making marks on the road’s surface, although the fuselage was still intact and it looked just like a car that had skidded off the roadway. We exclaimed at the sight and then, after we’d walked past it, I turned around to snap a photo of it with my phone. The phone screen was very dusty and dark and I couldn’t see the plane on it, but I pressed the shutter button at a time when I thought I would catch the image.

We turned around to continue on and then met my grandmother at a location where there was a large clearing. (It was my father’s mother, who lived with us when I was growing up, in Sydney.) By this time a fire had started near the wreck and threatened to overtake us. Granny was sitting at a desk talking on the telephone. I told her we would need a lift. She was chatting in a friendly manner with a man who, I somehow knew, could come and collect us. I said that she would need to hurry up and organise the lift, but Christian and I turned away and continued walking away from the fire.

A car came along the road and I held out my thumb to get it to stop so we could get a lift but the driver, a middle-aged man, didn’t pull up. Another car came off a road perpendicular to the road we were on, but it had sheep in the back and the driver (also a middle-aged man) guided it over our road, heading toward a paddock to our right. We started to see more and more sheep on the road, in flocks. There was the occasional cow as well, and we walked on, glancing back every now and then to survey the fire which, we saw, was advancing. I started to get worried but endeavoured to stay calm.

I could see down a hill to a small valley, and we came across a bull in the road. We skirted to the right to get around it and I saw a teenage girl standing there. I asked her if we could get a lift and she said that spaces in the family car, which was not at that moment visible to Christian and I, were, because of the fire, already fully allocated. She said we could use another car, and pointed at an old, red, 30s jalopy. By this time it was pretty obvious the fire would catch us up, so I indicated that Christian and I would take the car she had pointed out, but then I woke up.

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