Antilucid Flight
Dreamed 2016/8/30 by Wayan
I'm with members of the Tuolumne tribe, who live in the Sierra foothills below Yosemite. We're sneaking onto a ranch that whites claim they own, though it was tribal land stolen from us long ago. We're surveying it to prepare for a court battle. I'm uneasy, fear the ranchers are gun nuts and we'll get shot.
See a ghostly, wrinkled old white face in an upstairs window of the ranch house. Creepy, but no motion, no outcry. Slink on.
In the back yard is a white family having a barbecue. Slip around outbuildings to avoid them. At last, I break away and head south to the ranch's edge.
I do mean edge; ahead the ground just drops away. I'm on a tile roof in an old Gold Rush town, looking down on a stone plaza. At first it seems like less than a three-meter drop (10'). And a pine stands near--I can hop out to a big branch that angles down, and drop to the cobblestones. Easy.
But as I jump to the branch, find I misjudged the roof-height--it's more like 5 meters.
Wait... make that 7.
Make that 10! Even now, after it's tripled, I'm sure it's my bad judgment--refuse to face that the building is growing--or the plaza sinking!
So now I'm stuck 10m up a pine tree with a bare trunk below. One dry branch dangles as low as 5m, but it's dead brittle & barely hanging; will simply break if I try climbing down it.
My sister Althea appears on the roof and urges me to come back. But even this branch feels brittle; may not be able to leap back up to the roof. I call "I think my best bet is to climb down to the lowest fork, 8m up, stretch as low as I can, and drop & roll." Can't avoid it--this is gonna hurt. The question is, can I avoid breaking bones.
I wish the plaza'd change from cobble to dirt...
And I still don't catch on. Just keep wishing and worrying vaguely and preparing to drop. Even as I think "too bad it's not mud, or water"... and my unconscious revises the scene again.
Now I'm floating midair, 8 meters above the sea, dangling from a branch of an invisible tree. Rooted in nothing but waves.
Even into water, three or four stories can be a painful drop--I'm no Olympic diver. Still better than land--I won't break any bones. Reluctantly I prepare to let go...
A dolphin swims by. Not below--by! In the air. Not leaping briefly up to look at the levitating land animal, but swimming steadily in the air, at my height.
I wish it'd swim right by me, then I could ride it down partway, reduce the drop. It promptly veers toward me. I leap from the tree, grab on, and ride the dolphin briefly down to about 4m (13'), dive in, hit without pain or injury...
So now I'm treading water in the sea. Several miles out, though I can see the ridges of Big Sur (or the Santa Cruz mountains?) to the east. Cloud-towers and redwoods, steep coastal slopes.
But just a hundred yards to the west are whales. A pod of huge gray whales. With smaller ones around them--black and white whales. Orcas! Circling the big ones like wolves.
I'm alone miles out in the water with hungry killer whales!
Will they eat me?
Oh, these worries! And I STILL don't ask the obvious. Am I dreaming?
NOTES IN THE MORNING
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