The Crow, the Coyote, and the Butterfly

I had a dream last night centered on my longing and affection. Near the end of what I remember of the dream, a cawing raven flew over us meaningfully. It was nice.

Just now, walking the neighborhood with the Pack, a crow was calling to us from a nearby juniper. Once it got my attention and I turned my head, it flew, crying out, in an arc just over my head. It was this itself which brought back the memory of last night’s dream. Then, just down the road, we came within feet of a scared and injured coyote nestled in the bushes of an alley.

I may or may not have a history of perhaps partially drug-abuse induced brain damage and psycho-neurotic tendencies. But this means something.

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