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December, 2021
11 25One of my brothers (Ralph, I think) is driving a car, and I'm in the front passenger seat. I'm holding my camera. We are driving through a large downtown metropolitan area. Earlier we'd been going through a warehouse district, but now skyscrapers are all around, and one can see the sky in the vertical slivers of background lightness or darkness as we pass the high buildings. [I am reminded of the Houston downtown area.] In one part of this drive, briefly noted as we are moving through, the light in these vertical shafts or openings is eerily beautiful, as if almost offering views into space or of a deeper realm than ordinarily perceived reality. Also, the sky has become quite dark for the middle of the day. I want to take photos and so ask my brother to slow down, then to stop, but he does neither, using some [unremembered or not understood] excuse to totally ignore my wishes, and instead drives the care (car) hastily in reverse, so we are quickly leaving the ideal place for pictures behind. Still, through the view as we leave (and are now on the outskirts of the most impressively skyscrapered area), I can see a tempest looming between and behind the remaining skyscrapers in view as we back away. To myself at least, and perhaps to Ralph out loud as well, I say something like, "It's going to be one hell of a storm!" No other cars are around. [There is irritation and perplexity about Ralph's ignoring my requests, and so the lost opportunity to capture the moment with pictures, yet also a mixture of awe and of ominous anticipation over an evidently impending cloudburst.]
12/25/21 - Title: "Hungry Gators"
It is night. I have a room alone in a larger house. I think others are living in the house too, but I have no interaction with them in the dream. For some reason, I am responsible for the care and feeding of several adult alligators. The alligators are not in the same part of the house I am, or at least not supposed to be, but they are not completely outside the house either.
It is as though they have a partly indoor and partly outdoor space, 2-3 times larger than my room and attached to or adjacent to my area of the house. Their area has gray painted concrete surfaces which are sometimes ground level, sometimes a bit higher, and sometimes have deeper areas that are filled with water, so the alligators can be in or out of the water as they prefer, and they are used to spending a lot of time in the water, maybe with just a small part of their bodies out of it, vs. being completely out, for instance when more active or when sunbathing. I think their area is separated from my room by just a thin wall and door.
The gators are used to being hand-fed by me pieces of flesh. I think these are large chunks of fish, but am not sure. For whatever reasons, the gators are now aggressively insisting on these handouts, so much so that they have become dangerous despite having been relatively tamed, used to my hand feedings, and in spite of not having threatened me or others before.
As I have gone to bed for the night, I hear them making noise, restlessly or aggressively moving about in their fairly large, semi-watery enclosure. It feels as if they could at any moment break through my door.
I get up and take a bucket of food out to them and begin hand-feeding each one. I have the impression they feel they are not getting nearly as much food as they want and that if I do not continue to feed them quickly with new handfuls of food chunks, they may attack me or break down the wall and seek more food inside the house. As it is, their aggressive way of snatching the food from my hand and eating is liable to cause me a serious injury. It feels like this cannot end well. I definitely do not have enough food to satisfy them now and might run out at any moment.