(Entered in paper journal at 9:05 AM at Starbucks at 43rd Street and Third Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I walked away from one situation/location, possibly one that had involved my family. I was now walking down a road like the road bordering the south end of the small town in which I spent a fair portion of my early childhood and my later high school years.
It was a late afternoon in winter. The sky was pale grey-blue with a band of yellow on the horizon. The yards, sidewalk, and road were all covered in a sheet of snow that seemed even all the way across, maybe a couple inches deep, with a slightly icy crust on top. The sunset light was glowing brightly off all the snow.
I turned right, onto a side block. I was walking down the middle of the street, as if there were no worry of cars coming along. The light of the sky was a mixture of pinks, oranges, yellows, golds, and blues. The snow reflected the pinks and oranges and yellows of the horizon so that it seemed the sky blended directly into the snow.
At some point I realized something was weird about this situation. I didn't quite realize I was dreaming, but I knew I wasn't quite in a normal waking situation. I knew that I'd have to find something to remember, to "bring back" from this strange situation -- like one might bring back "evidence" from a vision, remote viewing session, or out of body experience.
I now recognized this block as being the block where my great grandmother lived. I wanted to find something here that I could come back later and verify. I knew that if I went into my great grandmother's house I could find something, which I could possibly verify later on. But there was a good chance I'd already have known about it. So going into my great grandmother's house wouldn't be very helpful.
I decided instead to go next door, into the house of my cousin B and his wife A. I'd never been in there before. So if I could find out a couple characteristics of their house and "bring them back" with me, I could verify later on that I'd been to this place.
I was kind of flying now. It was something like early morning. There wasn't any snow on the ground, though it was still apparently a winter day. The light was bluish grey. I had, before I'd started flying, been walking north, then east, in the bright snow. Now I was flying to the west.
I flew up to my cousins' house, which was white with blue trim. It seemed like the front screen door was closed, but like the actual front door was open. I went into the house, possibly walking straight through the closed screen door. I knew everybody was in the house, but that they were all still asleep.
I immediately noticed that the floor had all different colors of rugs on it. The rugs all seemed to be of a towel-like, terry cloth fabric, except one portion, which may have been regular carpet. One part of the floor was grey (this may have been the carpet), another part green, another part yellow, and another part red. I stood on the grey portion, in a tiny section of room slightly divided somehow from the rest of the living room.
I may also have seen, at some point, a little bird, like a chickadee, hopping around on the floor to my right.
Looking forward, I could see the living room open into the dining room, which itself may have opened into a room with big windows overlooking the backyard, some kind of common sun room. I told myself to remember the carpet: it was strange.
I then flew, just a couple feet off the floor, into the dining room. There was a large window, almost as wide as the wall, on my right. Near the window was a medium-sized, oval-shaped, wooden table with a couple chairs. The table was scattered with papers like mail.
I thought I'd go back outside. I wasn't really interested in this place. I thought I'd have more fun outside. At first I thought I should go back out the door. But I realized I could just fly through the window. I wasn't sure whether I could do it at first. But I decided to try.
I flew downward, at an angle, toward the window. The window was (now) covered with blinds. I may have flown through the window, then back into the house, then back out the window again. At one point I felt how the blinds "clung" to me a little -- how they almost seemed to clatter along with me as I flew outdoors. I flew over the yard, maybe seven or eight feet in the air, over a fence dividing two yards.
But now it was like I was flying over the yards of the house my family lived in during my last couple years of high school and the house next door to it. I had just flown out of the next door house.
In the yard of that house was some animal, maybe a bird or a dog or a bird that had then become a dog. The animal was either barking or chirping at me. If it was a dog, it was like a bulldog.
I was afraid to land. But I somehow felt like the only way I could continue my investigation was by landing.
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