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Sandhill crane

Friday, July 14, 2023

Time Waits For No One


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Had a strange dream last night, the last one before I woke. I was leading a group of nature lovers around an estuary and every once in a while we came across a little dead mallard duck, laying wrapped in a little pale green enveloping pillow of some sort. As we got to the far shore of the marsh, everything got darker and murkier and these deceased fowl were now found at practically every step. It was fetid and depressing.

I turned to my group and said, "We have to make our way out of here, to the center of the water, where things are clear..." I woke up. Don't know what it means.

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