It's an odd sort of thing to be afflicted with, but it is true to say that these days, I have recurring dreams involving flutterers. I swear to god, I've seen more of them while resting in the Halls of Morpheus than I have when I'm awake this year. Butterflies. Glorious butterflies.
The pattern is always the same. The dream will be wending it's often rather mundanely surreal course through my brain, when unrelated to any of the action at all, I'll see a butterfly somewhere.
Last night, it was in the clothes department of a John Lewis type store. For some reason, after every rail of clothing, there would be a sort of wooded alcove - !!! - and within one of these alcoves, there was the largest speckled wood butterfly I'd ever seen, sat there, wings half open with an smaller, extra set poised at a steeper angle.
Next to it, sat an even larger one, motionless as statues of dryads, unaffected by the Inception projections parading around the shop floor. Except when I tried to take a photograph, at which point they waited until just before the camera came into focus before fluttering off into the pink flowered hedge.
Then there were red admirals the size of my hand, outstretched, beautiful, painted like icons onto a tree stump. Neon green brimstones. A swallow tail basking in the sun mysteriously shining as the scene shifted to a Byron-esque river bank overlooking waters full of silvery glinting trout.
That was just the ordinary species. My dreamscape created exotics too, butterflies the like of the birds of paradise of Borneo and Sumatra. Purple forktails with streamers a foot long, golden peacocks, emerald fancies, fancied starstreaks.
None of them would allow me to take a photograph. The only way I can prove to you these species exist is to tell you about them.
But it was a more non-descript species that was the oddes. Violet-grey in colour, wren sized and furry of body and wing, it decided that the best thing to do everytime I raised my camera was to fly into my face, and settle upon my lips, fluttering its wings against my face.
What nectar, pray tell me, would it find there?
Enjoy the nature of your dreams.
Si
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.09.15
The world of dreams and their interpretation is a fascinating one. :)
ReplyDeleteDreams.....fascinating subject. I wonder what your butterfly dreams are telling us ?
ReplyDeleteSi, if I was a dream analyst then I would say that these dreams are fascinating. I always thought that most people dreamt in black and white, so you are probably fairly unique.
ReplyDeleteNot sure about the colour thing, but there must have been colour in that dream as I remember well the violet grey colour of that butterfly.
ReplyDeleteThere's always a sense of disappointment whenever I fail to photograph a butterfly. It must be significant of my career.
Thanks for dropping by! Stay classy out there.
I don't remember ever dreaming of butterflies. I did however yesterday see my 1st small copper of the year!
ReplyDeleteButterflies in dreams are supposed to foretell change. I've never seen any butterflies in John Lewis unless you count the Painted Ladies on the cosmetics counter.
ReplyDeleteHa ha, perhaps on some duvet covers or tea towels maybe!
ReplyDeleteI have never dreamed of them but if one lands on you it is supposed to be a sign of good luck and new beginnings.
ReplyDeleteThis is a cool post! I love it when animals and nature find themselves into dreams and the inverted photo is brilliant too. - Tasha
ReplyDeleteHa, there's barely been a butterfly to land on anyone in this English summer.
ReplyDeleteThanks all for your kind comments.