I dreamt of flocks of birds last night. I still don’t know why i call my sleep ‘night’. I don’t know when day ends and night begins. I don’t know how to tell my time apart from waking to dreams. Last night though, their were birds. Small brown birds. Thousands of them clinging to vines on a wall. Brown leaves falling away, and the birds were everywhere.

I remember that I was in a car. Driving slowly down a road. I don’t know where i was in the world, but somewhere with smaller buildings. Old buildings covered with vines reaching to the roof line. It must have been winter, the trees lining the road were bare. Nothing really was green that I remember. On one wall next to an empty lot, the vines were much thicker than anywhere else i noticed. The birds at first landed one or two at a time. Then flew off. I remember being curious about what they were doing.

Then, after the first few, more came. More and more birds flying in and landing on the vines. I could see their beaks moving the dead stems, or sleeping stems, back and forth as they explored. I couldn’t believe how many came out of nowhere. It seemed like the vines were covered. And the birds. They were amazing to watch. So much activity for such a small place, with so little color. Brown birds, with small yellow beaks. On brown vines, dead or sleeping for winter. On a brick wall, dull with age. Nothing of color, but so much was happening.

I am sure that they were there to gather bugs that were hiding in the vines. It makes sense that they are there for that. Food in the winter must be hard, and foraging to stay ahead of hunger must be a non-stop activity. What was amazing was that they looked like the whole process was fun. They seemed happy to flit into the vines and move around looking in crooks and crevices. I remember thinking that they were so free in the moment of searching. I know my mind was projecting onto them, and they probably had no thoughts other than the goal.

This was a dream moment that drifted out in time as well. The moment was slower than it should have been. Nothing changed with the speed of the birds, or their flight. But it seemed to last forever. Just the act of driving by these birds took the night to work through. And I can’t remember anything else. I know i was in a car, but I don’t know if it was mine. I was driving, but I don’t know if i remember how to drive. I don’t know any of the mechanics of my driving, or if anyone was with me. So strange that my mind saw these birds, and nothing else.