|For years I had a recurring dream of the river...||Ahimsa|
Jul 19, 2002 5:09 PM
|...in it I was floating, sort of body surfing, along with the current. Most of it was fast and shallow, quite fun actually, I rode along with the rush and enjoyed the speed and feeling of abandon.
Sometimes though, there would be a section of the river that would go under a bridge or through a tunnel. The water would turn murky from the lack of sun. Maybe a cave in the embankement would appear and cast a shadow over the water beneath and within it, or perhaps I would simply come upon a tree shaded deeper portion where the water slowed and swirled lazily along, reducing my propulsion to that of a leaf gently blown accross a pond. It was in these areas that I felt a slight tinge of dread.
These dreams went on for many years. They were tied and intermingled with others that I'll save for another time, but the two extremes were always present: The rush of the sunny rapids vs. the dreaded deeper or darker waters.
I never gave it much thought, until in one dream the source of my fear became manifest. As I slowly floated along through a short tunnel under a road bridge, I happened to look down through the water on the edge of shadow and sun. In the gloom I saw them at the bottom, just lying there. Long and grey green. Reptilian eyes staring up at me blankly. Registering my presence only vaguely. Crocodiles.
Now this might make sense if I lived in the Southern US, or some equator bound swampy portion of Africa, but I do not. We get snow here. The biggest thing in our water is a snapping turtle, unless one wants to believe the urban myth of giant catfish the size of a chevette lurking deep in the mud of the big river and only spotted by unlucky rescue divers trying to retrieve a drowning victim. Mostly around here the only thing bigger than me in the water is my imagination. Or so I thought.
I recently moved near the river. Needless to say I do not jump in and allow myself to be carried magically along as in my dream. I do however ride along it's banks almost every night. I can smell the water. I can see it shimmer in the gloom. I can hear it's creatures splash in off the bank, startled as I whiz by, crankarms turning in rythm.
Sometimes though, I swear I see a croc floating on the surface.
I never really took the time to inspect what is surely just a log or mass of leaves. I never really wanted to get that close. I never wanted my dream to be realized. Maybe I wanted to go on beleiving it WAS a croc, so that my dream would be true. Maybe I just wanted to have a little chuckle and enjoy the minds trick, the prank of sight and a healthy dose of whimsy. It's good to let yourself just run with it sometimes. Let it be real. Be childlike. Be afraid.
I rode on. Sometimes looking back to see those crocodillian eyes blink and submerge into the inky river. Sometimes to see it still there.
I don't have the dreams anymore. It seems as if my association with the river in real life has ended my subconscious need to create the relationship in my sleep. Almost as if I had satisfied some part of my being by getting closer to the water and "seeing" my fears outside of my minds eye.
These "crocs" pop up some nights still to this day.
Most recently in the newspaper.
My local paper.
There have been some very unusual sightings on the western banks where the land lowers to form the floodplain.
There have been more than just sightings...there have been live captures.
|If you live where it snows every year....||Scot_Gore|
Jul 19, 2002 5:30 PM
|....I predict that your alligators have an unplesant and life shortening event in their future.|
|Great imagery... bikes are faster than gators...right? nm||rwbadley|
Jul 19, 2002 8:15 PM