lucyoncolorado

Here are two dreams I had on Saturday night over the Christmas vacation. Notice that they both feature giant birds. Also yet another appearance by a famous person.

In which my dog and I befriend a strange, red-eyed bird-horse…

I’m standing in my study looking out the backdoor and over the fence at a strange bird perched on the high limbs of one of my nextdoor neighbor’s pine trees. The bird is black and shaped like a peacock, but it is the size of a small mule. His head is red on top and his eyes are a series of in-laid geometric shapes with bright red beads in the middle. First there is a large black circle on top of which is a white triangle on top of which is a black square and so forth until we come to the beady red pupil that shines in the darkness. He has a small sharp orange beak and he squawks. It was the sound that made me step outside in the first place.

My dog Lucy comes to the door also, curious to know what has alerted me. When she sees the strange giant bird, she instantly jumps up into the pine tree as well. This frightens the bird, who then spreads his wings and flies to the second pine tree. His wingspan is easily eight feet across, and I notice that the wings have the black and white striped pattern of a common pileated woodpecker.

Lucy and the giant woodpecker sit perched up in the high limbs of the twin pine trees like birds on a wire. It’s a funny sight, and I’m surprised by it all. I walk back into my study and locate my Field Guide to the Birds of North America and flip through the pages to the section on woodpeckers. There, I read about the variations of pileated woodpeckers and notice some small print at the bottom which describes the strange geometric pattern around the eyes. It mentions nothing about the unusually large size of this bird, but it does say that this variation is friendly with dogs.

I go back outside and call Lucy to me. She leaps down out of the tree as if she’s done it her entire life, and it seems normal to me that she knows how to do this. She lands gracefully in my backyard and I give her a doggie treat. The bird sees this and swoops down off the limb and lands beside Lucy. I offer the bird a doggie treat too, but he does not want this. I pet him on the head and marvel at how big he is. Thinking that since he is as big as a horse that he might be as hungry as one too, I go into my kitchen and pull out a few stalks of celery and an apple that I keep for the horse that lives in the pasture behind my house. I offer these to the giant bird who eats them hurriedly.


In which Johnny Cash tries to avenge his friend’s murder but winds up drowning in an underwater crevasse…

I’m an important person in a Zacatecas, and people are gathered in a room outside my office waiting to meet with me. I know that Johnny Cash is among them and that he is looking to avenge the murder of his Sicilian friend. I ask my servant to show him in.

The man in black is in his early 50s and a little heavy around the middle. I stand up to shake his hand and thank him for coming. He responds politely and sets a pecan pie on my desk. He says he brought it as a gift, but I notice that there is a miniature scythe underneath the pie tin. I thank him for the pie and ask him to take a seat, then I sit across from him, behind my desk. In a dignified but down-to-business and booming voice, he calmly tells me that he has come for revenge because I’ve murdered his friend, the Sicilian. I do not deny the murder or betray any fear. Instead, I smile and casually explain why I killed his friend. We discuss the matter civilly, without any drama or insults.

In the end, we can’t come to an agreement and Johnny Cash challenges me to a duel. He lifts up the pecan pie that he’d set on my desk and exposes the scythe. He explains that he’d originally planned to cut my throat with it, but now that he sees that I’m a reasonable and honorable person, he wants to challenge me in an open and respectful manner. I tell him that I’d noticed the scythe as soon as he walked in, and I thank him for not slitting my throat.

We exit my office by the backdoor where I have a rollercoaster car waiting. We climb inside the roller coaster and head out into the jungle which is somehow very near my office even though we are in Zacatecas. The jungle is dense with banyan trees with intricate networks of roots and vines. We shake hands and then begin to fist fight. I immediately run towards a chasm. I know the jungle well and am able to navigate the terrain without a map or light. Johnny Cash doesn’t do as well, and he is soon lost in the woods. I hide down into the chasm until I see him running up to the edge. He is out of breath and I start to feel sorry for him. But I carry out my plan anyway and throw a bunch of vines towards his wrists and ankles, lassoing him like a cowboy catching a bull at a rodeo. I pull him down.

Johnny Cash lay on the ground hogtied. I climb up to him and speak to him respectfully. I don’t want to kill him, but I also know that if I don’t give him the opportunity to save face that he will just attack me once he is free. I pull out a hunting knife and cut the vines that bind his wrists but I leave his ankles tied. Now he can sit up and move about with some dignity. I explain again why I killed his Sicilian friend and how it was not personal and how I hope that he will stay out of the matter. He tells me again that he must avenge his friend’s death. I tell him that I will not kill him, but in that case must leave him bound by the ankles in the jungle overnight. I leave, knowing that he will eventually untie his ankles though it might take a while.

Meanwhile, I climb up a tree and out of the jungle. It turns out that the jungle is located within a giant warehouse in the colonial part of Zacatecas. I sit at a table in the warehouse and watch Johnny Cash untie his ankles down in the jungle. When he is finally free, he walks over to a pond to wash the mud off his face and clothes. Eventually he jumps in for a swim which I know is a dangerous idea. I jump off the table and run back into the jungle to warn him, but it is too late.

At the bottom of the pond is a deep crevasse, similar to what one might find high up in glacial regions of mountains. Johnny Cash has fallen through the pond and into the crevasse. I think about him slowly slipping deeper and deeper into the crevasse and wouldn’t wish the horror on my worst enemy. But there is no way for me to rescue him without falling into the crevasse myself.

The jungle is shrinking at this point so that it takes up only a small room in the warehouse. I run to a telephone and dial 911. I explain the emergency but the ambulance driver needs an exact location. I tell him that I’m at the warehouse with the jungle inside, but this is not precise enough. He needs a street address. I put him on hold and run out the main door of the warehouse to read the address.

The door slams behind me and I’m standing in a narrow alley with cobblestone roads between colonial style buildings that have been constructed together to share walls and flat roofs. I realize that there is no way that an ambulance will be able to fit down these alley roads. I turn around, dejected, but find that the door has locked behind me. I walk out back to the alley road and look both right and left but see nothing but a labyrinth of alleyways. I’m afraid to leave my spot because I don’t want to get lost. Suddenly I notice that there is a sculpture of a giant red chicken directly in front of the warehouse doors. I climb on the back of the bird, up its neck and then sit on top of its crested head. From there I look over the tops of the rows of buildings and alleyways spread out up and down hills as far as I can see. I realize that I’ll never be able to find my way out of the city and that the only way I’ll ever get back home is to jump back into the jungle before it disappears.

I try to climb back down the chicken, but it is very difficult to find places to put my feet. I concentrate carefully on making sure that I have a foothold before I move my other foot or hand. I slowly work my way back down the chicken. The climb down is so difficult and so dangerous that at one point I briefly realize I’m dreaming. I reflect on how frequently I have a dream in which I must scale great heights without the aid of climbing equipment and I remember that I almost never fall. This brings a little comfort and confidence, and I eventually make it back to the ground. I try the warehouse doors again, and this time I’m happy to find them unlocked.

Now the warehouse is the site of a conference of American and Mexican teachers, all of whom sit at the type of folding tables that seat students in public school cafeterias. The teachers each have a colorful plastic basket in front of them in which there are several cheap and cutesy items including a fake feather, a rubber squeeze ball and several pencils decorated with cartoon characters. I rush in front of the crowd and explain that Johnny Cash is struggling in a crevasse at the bottom of the pond in the shrinking jungle and that if we don’t get to him soon, he will die. I need their assistance in saving him. They just carry on with their conference, discussing how the useless items in the plastic trays will revolutionize public school education and save the future of both their countries. I roll my eyes in disgust and run back to the jungle.

By now, the jungle has been reduced to a small aquarium. When I look down into it, I see that the trees and terrain are all made of plastic. They are pushed into ice like beer bottles set in an ice chest. I simply pull all the jungle items out of the ice and toss them from the aquarium. At the bottom I find the pond which is now only a mass of wrinkled tin foil. I take it out and find Johnny Cash in its folds. He is the size of a GI Joe action figure, and he is dead.