Entry tags:
Storms and seeds
I dreamed we were off the coast of Jersey City. Instead of the river, things opened directly onto the sea, and there was a roped-off area where people could swim. The sun was out, and it was warm; the water was turquoise and salty. There was some sort of game of handball (water polo?) going on, with maybe 50 or more people; my entire family was in the water, hobbling and splashing about, but the distances were so great it seemed like you would never find the goal.
Beyond the rope, a stormy current, and what looked like a water spout. There were the tails of great whales flailing about, creating massive waves that never reached us, and then what looked like lightning strikes. No, my wife told me, it was biplanes crashing into the sea, suicide missions to slam into the whales. Shadows moved through the water.
We ended up back on shore. They were telling me that my daughter required some kind of crushed marijuana seeds for her mental health, and my wife had obtained a small metal canister that contained just such seeds, which looked, in the dream, like flattened garbanzos. I was concerned, and ingested one myself, to see what would happen. We sat in the sand and waited.
Beyond the rope, a stormy current, and what looked like a water spout. There were the tails of great whales flailing about, creating massive waves that never reached us, and then what looked like lightning strikes. No, my wife told me, it was biplanes crashing into the sea, suicide missions to slam into the whales. Shadows moved through the water.
We ended up back on shore. They were telling me that my daughter required some kind of crushed marijuana seeds for her mental health, and my wife had obtained a small metal canister that contained just such seeds, which looked, in the dream, like flattened garbanzos. I was concerned, and ingested one myself, to see what would happen. We sat in the sand and waited.