Macaw!
I had a dream in the twilight hours of this morning. I answered a call on our kitchen phone, which turned out to be a woman calling from some company I had called in an emergency some time ago. (That was dream-knowledge: I know not the name of the woman, nor what company it was. The call I 'remembered' never actually took place.) I nearly hung up on her thinking it was a telemarker, because she had my name completely wrong, but when I asked her where she was calling from, I recognized the name of the company and began correcting the information they had. My dream mind told me that the phone I had called them from before had had terrible reception, which was why their information was so far off: telephonic miscommunication.
I wandered the kitchen while on the phone, which is not unusual in real life; most of the time I do wander around when on the phone, unless I'm at work. At one point I recall Mom exited the hallway and entered the room, though after that brief moment I do not recall seeing her again. In truth, I think it was more a shadow - she was not actually there, just a smudge on my vision that my brain said, "That's Mom" and afterward ignored. I wandered back to the backdoor, and looked out upon the maple tree. It was a gray day (very much like what I woke up to, really), and there were two pairs of nigh identical animals: a pair of black-with-white markings cats (one slightly smaller than the other) were beneath the tree, and a pair of macaws, or whatever those bright red parrots are called, in the tree itself. I knew there was something wrong with the birds, though I could not place what: upon waking, I knew it to be that the feathers that ought to have been red were green. The cats were standing off to fight with one another, while the birds were flaring their wings at one another; I do not know enough of birds to know if they were fighting, too, or if it was a courtship, or simply them conversing. My dream self didn't know, either, except that those two birds had no business being in the tree: someone must have lost them. I excused myself from the phone call, telling the woman, "Someones' macaws are in my yard" or something of the nature, and opened the door. (I do not recall putting the phone down, or really holding its weight.) The cats bolted away. Knowing that there are definitely no wild parrots around here, I walked halfway into the yard, whistling at the birds in hopes of getting them to come to me. I raised my arm in invitation, as if they were hawks that knew to perch. One flew away over my head, and then the other. I sighed, then woke up.
Upon waking, I not only realized why the birds looked wrong, but that there had been an earlier dream I'd had that had one of the same birds in it. I could recall nothing else of the earlier dream. I couldn't remember if the earlier parrot was miscolored or not, only that it'd been there.
I think the only reason I recall this one is because I pondered what was off about the birds when I woke, then said, aloud, "Their feathers were green, not red." Often when I wake from a dream, I assume to myself that it is memorable enough to recall what happened, though in truth that never works. I have to wake myself enough to tell myself what happened, and the memory of talking to myself will trigger some memories of the dream.
I wandered the kitchen while on the phone, which is not unusual in real life; most of the time I do wander around when on the phone, unless I'm at work. At one point I recall Mom exited the hallway and entered the room, though after that brief moment I do not recall seeing her again. In truth, I think it was more a shadow - she was not actually there, just a smudge on my vision that my brain said, "That's Mom" and afterward ignored. I wandered back to the backdoor, and looked out upon the maple tree. It was a gray day (very much like what I woke up to, really), and there were two pairs of nigh identical animals: a pair of black-with-white markings cats (one slightly smaller than the other) were beneath the tree, and a pair of macaws, or whatever those bright red parrots are called, in the tree itself. I knew there was something wrong with the birds, though I could not place what: upon waking, I knew it to be that the feathers that ought to have been red were green. The cats were standing off to fight with one another, while the birds were flaring their wings at one another; I do not know enough of birds to know if they were fighting, too, or if it was a courtship, or simply them conversing. My dream self didn't know, either, except that those two birds had no business being in the tree: someone must have lost them. I excused myself from the phone call, telling the woman, "Someones' macaws are in my yard" or something of the nature, and opened the door. (I do not recall putting the phone down, or really holding its weight.) The cats bolted away. Knowing that there are definitely no wild parrots around here, I walked halfway into the yard, whistling at the birds in hopes of getting them to come to me. I raised my arm in invitation, as if they were hawks that knew to perch. One flew away over my head, and then the other. I sighed, then woke up.
Upon waking, I not only realized why the birds looked wrong, but that there had been an earlier dream I'd had that had one of the same birds in it. I could recall nothing else of the earlier dream. I couldn't remember if the earlier parrot was miscolored or not, only that it'd been there.
I think the only reason I recall this one is because I pondered what was off about the birds when I woke, then said, aloud, "Their feathers were green, not red." Often when I wake from a dream, I assume to myself that it is memorable enough to recall what happened, though in truth that never works. I have to wake myself enough to tell myself what happened, and the memory of talking to myself will trigger some memories of the dream.