Bacon in the Desert

Currently I’m researching bird related myths and legends, in an attempt to create a volume all about birds and their magical correspondences. This weekend, I had the strangest dream, undoubtedly inspired by my forays into feathered folklore.

I had been rooting in bins for eggs, but the eggs were all broken and even misshapen. I claimed one, smelling it to check it was not rotten despite the cracks and oozing albumen. Prize in hand, I wandered into the desert. Sand swirled in the air, and the desert floor was dotted with people sitting or squatting, eating their own foraged food.

In my hands I now had a plate with some bread and bacon on. My sorry little egg had vanished. I saw a corvid approaching, on wing. At first I thought it was a crow, but as it landed nearby, I realised it was a jackdaw. Bobbing its hooded head, it approached, and I held out a bit of bacon. The bird came closer and claimed the bacon. As it nibbled on the meaty snack, I gave it a scratch, and the bird seemed very content to sit by me and enjoy the attention.

A lady was watching us, and called over to me,

‘Would the jackdaw sit with us if you weren’t here?’

The jackdaw answered in perfect English, but I can’t recall the full answer, only that it loved me. As it ate, its head dipped forward and I noticed two additional eyes peeking through the ruffled feathers on its neck.

What a strange dream! When I awoke, I wrote it down immediately so as not to forget the detail, but it didn’t fade the way dreams tend to. If my research keeps inspiring night-time journeys like this, I may have a companion book of weird dreams to publish soon enough.

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