At my kitchen table, the fish are swimming outside of the aquarium. Classic dream image for me. One fish bullies another into synchronizing their movements, which is entrancing to watch. From out of the aquarium, I lift out a curved plastic support to help a baby turtle out of it — a tiny little miracle which gradually coalesced from particles shed by the fish.
While I’m flying surveying a wide cul-de-sac, I watch as a rabid giraffe stampedes across driveways, a dilophosaurus one of its victims. Like a whole zoo went awry.
In another dream, I am introduced to a tousled black-haired baby, and lay my head on it. The longer I lay there, the stronger I feel the familiar feeling of a psychic link — the same feeling you get looking into directly into someone’s eyes. I pull back suddenly, startled by how strong this feeling is.