I am curious to see where he will go this early morning. I follow him, in a state of lucid dreaming, to Snoqualmie Falls, which I visited - in my physical body - a few days before. He does not stop at the viewing platform. He dives into the spray of the falls, then spins and soars. He is flying among the peregrine falcons that nest among the cliffs, and I fly with him, reveling in the pure joy of being airborne.
I stay with him as he skims the waterfall, plunging straight down to the boiling waters below, and then streams with the course of the channel, gathering water-power. I feel the tremendous charge.
Now he is following a smaller stream, a tributary, up into dry country. He flies across across dusty plains until he comes down somewhere far to the East, and changes into a detective in a detective's hat. He is on a case, and he has a squad of efficient cops at his command. He moves with speed and precision to investigate a crime, clean up the crime scene, and place those responsible under restraint. The details are another story, for a longer narrative.
The performance of my double as dream detective fills me with satisfaction. I fly back now, over the mountain pass, over the falls, to my resting body.
- Mosswood Hollow, April 21, 2012
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