Blue_Opossum

Morning of November 15, 1968. Friday.



The location seems to be a very dense cypress swamp in Florida. The cypress trees are seemingly gigantic; as big as skyscrapers (though there is no hint of any people or man-made features in the region). It is beautiful. It is also eerie but without any sense of a threat. Although it is of a full view and three-dimensional, I do not seem fully in my dream body (though I am not certain if I am implied to be incorporeal).

I watch what seems to be an enormous eagle, mostly in silhouette, flying from right to left. It is the most vivid when I view it through a wide clearing between two dense areas of impossibly tall cypress trees. It does not seem to be carrying any prey. Its wings are moving but almost as if in slow motion. I feel as if it is a roc (even though a roc is mythological). There is a sense of peace, love, and timelessness. The imagery is mostly in shades of gray (which is very rare in my dreams). The emotional state is also unusual, as other dreams I had during this time included the threat of buzzards, yet this bird seems much bigger, possibly as big as a jumbo jet.

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This dream was my last dream of the morning and is a unique and very enjoyable return flight waking transition.

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My dream seems to have three influences:

• The swampy Fort Ogden area in Florida where I lived when I was very young
• The Pogo Possum comic strip
• A deck of educational cards that, when flicked through, display an animation of wild animal silhouettes with a bird silhouette flying above them

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In my earliest dream journal entry on notebook paper (at age seven) I had referred to this bird as an “elephant bird” (though I also referred to it as a “roc”), but I later learned that the extinct elephant bird was flightless (and of Madagascar) and certainly not like the bird in this dream.

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This entry was last checked and clarified on Saturday, 31 December 2016. A new photographic image (based on an original sketch) has been added.

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Very early morning of September 21, 1974. Saturday.



This dream was likely inspired in part by the often low-rated 1972 movie called “Frogs”, with Ray Milland. In my dream, I am spending the night with classmates at some sort of estate in the middle of a cypress swamp; probably in Florida near an area where we went on field trips in real life (as a toddler, I lived in a cypress swamp). My bus driver, Mr. F, is there instead of any of our teachers and he appears to be very scared and walks around with a rifle. (In real life, Mr. F was a kind but very unusual character. He would have some sort of severe panic attack whenever he heard the sound of someone whistling, even at a very low volume, and start shaking and yelling, almost driving off the road. He always acted a bit distracted and nervous as it was, and I was amazed he was allowed to be a school bus driver at all. He even bumped into me with the actual bus, although I did not get hurt, when I was crossing in front as we were always told to do, as he must have been distracted and just started to drive off again right after he had stopped.)

The “killer frogs” come out precisely at midnight. We all hide in a building (which is - or is like - a tourist station in a park). Not much happens, though. There is some concern about them breaking through a window, but they do not. I see them all in a row, lined up like soldiers, even possibly with a seeming unseen group leader. I view some scenes like this at ground level somehow (even from an angle that would imply being slightly under the ground’s surface and a few other odd “camera angles”), but am not in any danger at any time. Even though it is supposed to be “horror”, it is somehow more like “Halloween fun” for me in my dream.

There is a rather odd scene where I seem to be dramatically preaching about why the frogs are seeking revenge against humanity. One line is about them being run over by bicycles. (From a real-life event where I had actually run over a toad with my bicycle in the walkway from the carport to the shed).

Later on, everything is quiet (in the morning) and everything is normal again.

There were later a couple similar dreams as this. I also wrote a story in real life called “I’m Afraid of Toads” based somewhat on my dream (even though in my dream, they were frogs). Of course, I had no fear of either toads or frogs, and in fact, used to carry toads around as a boy even when they peed on me. I once set up a “toad city” in the Cubitis carport (before my father added the extra bedroom) in an old washtub (with dirt and cardboard buildings and the “Toad City” sign) I borrowed from my parents - and watched them for a couple weeks then let them go.

In real life, my female friend and classmate, Brenda W, copied my story mostly word for word (including the title) but solely replacing the word “toads” with “spiders” in each and every case - and several people liked it. I found that so odd an act, I was not remotely angry or annoyed, only amused, especially when she became very embarrassed when someone was reading “her” story out loud on the bus and I listened in.