Dreams are fascinating. I find them so, although I realize there are those who don't find dreams interesting. I also know that many don't enjoy reading or hearing about dreams. But in the UFO world, we all know that dreams are another aspect of the UFO realm. Do aliens communicate to us, at times, through our dreams? Do they use dream time to manipulate us? I say yes, most definitely.
So one little snippet of a dream from one of my many recurring dreamscapes/settings had me thinking of UFOs, probably because of the cow imagery. (You know, cows beamed up into the mother ship.) However, the dream (as far as I remember, which isn't much at all) had nothing to do with UFOs. But, intrigued as I am with imagery and the surreal, the subconscious and the esoteric, and how those all might meet and perform, I found the following bit weird and a bit funny even, in its weirdness:
Jim and I are in one of my dreamscapes; this one is the slightly ghost-townish neighborhood of asphalt lots, weeds, alleys, run down houses, wide slightly crumbling streets with businesses that just seem tired. Not sure why we're here, but here we are. I think we were looking for someplace and got a little lost, or we have to pass through here to get to wherever.Now I wrote that this has nothing to do with UFOs, and I'm not suggesting for one moment that the dream does have anything to do with UFOs. But it didn't occur to me until I started typing here into my bloggie dashboard that the house in the dream, on Corning St., was where I had my "Patio Alien" experience.
I find that we're in the backyard of my house on Corning St. in L.A. I lived in that house when I was very young. The backyard was weedy and had tall grass and a brick decorative well (I think it was decorative) and then, after the wooden fence, the alley. We go across the alley and some people in the large barn like building the people stop us. We assure them that "I used to live there," pointing to the yard behind me, and that fact makes it okay for us to pass.
We're standing around in a huge hanger like barn type interior. No furniture or anything at all, except a few people. The few people are all farmers, and not just farmers, but stereotypes, cartoons of rural farmers. They're dressed in overalls and baseball style caps with John Deere logos, chewing on long stalks of straw and saying things like "Yep, it's a gonna rain, I reckon!" Ridiculous. More ridiculous since this is in the middle of L.A.
The only other thing in here with us besides the farmers, are cows and bulls. Tons of cows and bulls. We're all standing around them, the cattle are in the middle. No stalls; the cows and bulls are just free, milling around a bit.
Suddenly we hear a rumbling and it gets dim. The farmers say "Oh, damn! Looks like they're here, we're going to have to go down!" (Who or what "they" are, no idea.) And the entire barn like hangar room, cows and people, start to do down into the ground. Some kind of mechanism allows the whole building to go down into the ground, to hide, and on the surface, no one would know there was a building there.
So down we go, like riding in an elevator. Cows and farmers are calm, though a bit annoyed by the inconvenience. Jim and I however are freaked.
Trickster cow dream!
|Drawing of Patio Alien on Corning St, L.A. Calif. 1958? by Regan Lee|