Friday, October 6, 2017

In my dream, part 57-01

In my dream, I'm in a class. The corner of the classroom is a floor to ceiling window. The view is of a prairie with mountains on the left side. The room is at considerable altitude. I am asked by the professor to look at objects in a long glass case opposite the window and identify the tallest one. There are various bottles full of formaldehyde and things preserved in it. There is a centrifuge that looks like a weathervane, with a cone on top and four orbs surrounding a central cylinder. The cone is brass, the spheres are black and the cylinder is red. 

While I am standing in front of the case with my back to everyone with hands on hips, the professor says, "I should take a picture of this." I turn around briefly -- noticing I am wearing a lab coat -- then identify the weathervane as the tallest object. It was a tough choice as they were all almost exactly the same height.

The professor says I am correct, but his assistant says, "Wait a minute" and looks at the case herself, scrutinizing the objects closely. "He's right," she says. I have returned to my seat and another student and I look at each other and say at the same time, "They change height!" We then conclude it must be because of temperature.

Later, the professor is reclined with his head off the edge of a bed or couch. His face is bathed in afternoon light. He looks in my direction and says, "I saw it, but I didn't notice it."

--o--

For some reason, I locked on that phrase after the dream ended, drifting between dozing and momentary wakefulness. How often do we see something, but not notice details? It seems trivial, but if you're the eyewitness to a murder (I watch too much NCIS), what you saw is one thing, but the proverbial devil is in the details. This notion, silly though it might be, will probably niggle at me all day.

Thanks, dream.

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