I dream of owlssteemCreated with Sketch.

in life •  6 years ago 


~ 4 minute read ~ reading grade 0 ~

Writing about your dreams. Vivid dreams are a good way to tell you what's going on beyond your conscious mind. This one was so vivid I wrote it down somewhere I can read it again. I can still feel the wind, hear the sounds and the smell the scents each time I read it. And of course, see the owls...



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The dream started with me walking down a street. Or rather I entered consciousness of the dream at this point. I felt as though I had been dreaming for a while before hand.

It is the twilight hours. The sun has passed from view. Yet her light still invades every crevasse, holding out the dark baying from the edges.

It seemed like a street in semi suburban, semi industrial Australia. There are many places like this street in Australia. Not rough, or broken down. Untidy and unkempt. Functional. Industrial. The road was a rough tarmac, using the thick stony gravel used in areas like this. I have fallen on it many times in my push bike riding times. I know exactly what it feels like. It has a smell when you are close up to it.

The grass on the side of the road was tall guinea grass. Green grey. A few months from being last cut. It is taller than me. It moves with the light random puffs of wind that I can feel around me. I can hear the sound. I can feel the wind on me.

The road makes a left turn. There is a 6 foot chain wire fence, and the corrugated wall of some building. A shed running alongside the road, about 2 meters from the gutter. Both fence and shed wall are half covered by the grass. There is a big gum tree that commands the corner. It towers up into the sky and it's lower branches spread over the shed, the fence, the grass and part of the road. And me as I approach it.

But this is not important.

The focus is on the walking. And talking to someone. A woman. Petit and beautiful. Long hair. I can not see her face. But it feels like a good conversation. We know each other very well. Interested in what each other says, and feels and does. We are close. We walk. Slowly. Comfortably. Close but not touching. She wears dark jeans and a black flowing shirt or loose fitting jacket. Or is she wearing a long black flowing dress. I cannot tell.

Then is is dark. Twilight ends where we are. We enter the corner. The tree, the fence, the grass. There is only a slight noise as the grass moves. It seems to get quieter with the fall of darkness.

I am holding a torch and I look up into the branches overhanging me and my friend.

There are many red eyes looking back from the branches of this tree. They look back at us both. I am not scared. Neither is she. There is no fear. We are curious. Feeling wonderment. "Wow! look at that".

We go closer and some of the eyes fly off. Or they move away, further up into branches. Or they close their eyes, the red dots going off like lights. They are birds of different types. Small ones. The details are not clear.

Then I see an owl. I show my friend. It as red eyes too. It is very clear. It is a barking owl or a boobook owl or a powerful owl. I looked in Google and found several Australian owl that look like what I saw.

And then another one. A third. More maybe. They are waking up. Sitting on the branches. Looking at us.

They are not doing anything. No noise. Looking at us in the torch light I am shining on them. Blinking like owls - slowly.

The there is this noise coming towards us, coming around us. Very loud. From everywhere, all at once. Like rain. Like grass thrashing a tin wall, like gravel sliding down a chute.

I look up and it is light in the sky. It is still twilight above us. I see clouds, I see blue. But it is grey. I see many many gum leaves. Their silhouettes. They are falling, but falling sideways. Randomly. Blown by a wind that has not reached the ground. Way overhead, high up.

I wonder to myself, are they making the noise?

No. I realise rain! And it comes down, heavy! Sudden. Deep. Saturating. Then our car appears next to us. We are soaked.

At the same time, I see that a baby owl - though almost full adult size - has fallen from the branches above. It is on the ground, in the grass, and is trying to fly back up.

It hops up and flaps it's wings and then falls to the ground again. In the shorter grass on the side of the road. I should help it. But the rain!. I tell my friend to get into the car. And I go around to the drivers side and get in. The steering wheel is on the right hand side, like in Australia. It is a Suzuki Vitara 4WD. Those versatile go anyway types. Silver. I had one once. Go anywhere it did.

Then, in the car, we both sit for a few seconds. We are both dripping wet. I still can't see her face, but I like being with her. Comfortable.

The baby owl.

I remember the owl, and I reverse the car because I want to use the headlights to see it. I will work out what to do when I see it. I imagine I will I run over it because it was close to the road. I must be careful, but I know I won't be near it. It will be ok. I move the car. The rain is too heavy to see outside.

As the car begins to move I wake up. Shocked awake. Brought back to earth. I am motivated. I write. I do many things.

I can feel the baby owl is safe...

@jeremiahjosey

2 December 2013

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