As sung by Tom Petty (RIP).
Last night I dreamed that I was jogging along this lovely mountain trail. The sky was clear, but it wasn’t hot out. I had views that were nice, but not vertigo-inducing, of a bluff above, of alpine forest and a wide, flat valley below, where a lush savannah lay. Above the trail were a series of boulders that seemed to be shaped, possibly human-made. I remember clambering up to see what it was all about and recall water, so maybe some kind of reservoir? The dream was being a tease on this part.
In the savannah, I saw a hippo. Why a hippo, only my brain can say, and it ain’t talking. The hippo was the size of a house. There was also a house-sized chicken, though its proximity to the giant hippo was unclear. There might have been more chickens.
The bluff above made me think of the one in The Lion King, arching up to the sky, except instead of anthropomorphic lions capering about, there was a herd of giraffe gathering. I could see several of them hunkering down in a way that suggested they were getting ready to leap off the bluff, not like lemmings to their doom, but because they could fly. Of course.
This was a dream about my recovery from surgery.
