Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 17, 1978. Sunday.

Dream #: 4,290-02. Reading time: 55 sec.



It seems to be late at night or very early in the morning before sunrise. I see the front of my Cubitis home (though I am living in La Crosse at the time in real life) from near the highway. My father is near the southwest corner of the house. After a short time, I see a navy jet (possibly an A-5 Vigilante, though only about half the size or smaller) has somehow stopped in midair so it appears “frozen” at about a forty-five degree (diagonal) angle about eight feet from the ground, close to where my father is standing, though to his left by a few feet. The unfamiliar male pilot starts talking to my father, and they cheerfully converse. The jet hanging in midair does not cause incredulity, but there is a vague, indirect thought of whether there is something wrong about the scene. There is a vague wariness about the jet dropping a bomb, but not in our immediate vicinity. Overall, the scene maintains a positive essence. I get the impression the pilot is asking my father for directions (as people sometimes do from a car) so he may continue his mission. I do not consider how it is going to move from its compromising position near the ground. (I wake while it is still motionless though I get the impression it will return to its usual flight path.)

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