10 Sep 2019, Tuesday:
I was in a car, in the passenger seat, I don’t remember who was driving, but we were on some sideroad. Driver was a guy but I couldn’t see him, just knew he was there. We were looking for the trailhead of a camino, driving slowly looking at or for signs. One sign said “Ceures”? Maybe. I wasn’t a street sign but the name of a place we’d reached, like an estate, but very much not like an estate. . . really it was like a trailer park. I tod the guy driving to stop and I’ll ask for directions. There was one guy there, reminded me of Harvey Keitel, from the film “Reservoir Dogs.” He was standing naked in his yard, I didn’t think it odd, just asked him how we could get to the beginning of a camino. He gave me verbal directions, which I didn’t understand but pretended to. For some reason I didn’t really trust that he knew what he was talking about, but I summed up his directions and asked for clarification. He said he’d go inside his house to get a map. While he was gone I surveyed his yard. I’m not sure it can be called a garden though there were plants, and it was shaded. I noticed there were garden-displays, not like gnomes or anything, but more like steel sculptures. One in particular was that of a bird, stuck to the ground on a steel rod, iron rod maybe, rust colored, about waist-high. I noticed the eye of the bird. Only now, awake, do I wonder if the bird sculpture was maybe looking at me.
dream chronicles 