I watched a couple of Netflix crime fictions over the week and both bad guys had covered their faces in white paint to make themselves more culty or dangerous looking…and they did to me.
And in real time the same week, a crow fell into our yard that could no longer fly… it was younger than a full adult.
I didn’t want it to get eaten by a cat so eventually I threw a towel over it to stop it hopping away and put it on top of the cedars at the side of my yard and left it for the other crows to protect or feed it. They were all cawing like a murder of crows should do.
The next day it was off the cedar hedge in the yard on the walkway behind the house. I trapped it again. I could easily hold it in my hand to try and feed it some milk soaked bread.
No luck. It wouldn’t eat so I placed it behind some big leaves in the corner of my garden and left it to life’s purpose. I checked a couple of days later and it was nestled into the same spot as when I had left it.
The following dream blended the Netflix drama with the sense and activity of death that occurred in my yard. I dreamed I was standing over a dead body on a stainless steel table and I was peeling off some stuff from this guy’s face. I didn’t feel like a mortician; maybe I was the police and I was trying to figure out what this stuff was. I turned to one of the attendants beside me and started to talk to him about the peeling. Then, an “OW” (like in ‘that’ hurts) pierced the the intensity of the room space and as I looked at the body, I screamed to the attendants, “It’s awake.”
Then, I recognized it was such a stupid anomaly, I yelled to myself, “I must be in a dream," and I screamed, I’m awake.”
I was so shocked at the confluence of events I woke up into my bed laughing, and lost the lucidity and of course the dream.
Just goes to show, Dreamtime can have a sense of humour as well.