The images I could find, of real birds, did not come close to what I saw in my dream. Even the word “raven”, must be seen as a perhaps too eager attempt, to determine what the dream was about.
Ravens are spirit animals, they have a meaning in all nature based religions. They are also biblical animals as they refused to come back to Noah’s arc and chose to feed on the carcasses the flood had left.
Ravens are high in symbolism, and when you dream about them, you can find a thousand videos on YouTube about what they mean.
It wasn’t a raven.
It was a slender looking bird, and if it had not been for the fact that its beak was made of silver, I don’t think we would have been watching it.
“We” were the residents on a square, dome, or mall. It most closely resembled an indoor living community, with a lot of light. If you looked up you would see a few stories of balconies or hallways of the upper floors. But it was so large you would not be able to distinguish anything.
But towering way overhead, was a roof.
Like a dome that could hold an entire habitat or artificial climate underneath.
But that wasn’t the case: Aside from rain the glass roof was not holding anything out, and birds were not supposed to be there.
It wasn’t the ideal environment for birds, and although I m sure pigeons were common there, this bird was a special one. A true bird of paradise.
No one knew what it was, but looking up, the first people started to say things like:
And then I saw.
It was a black bird, with long silver beak. Sometimes I thought it was elegant, a long bill curved downwards. At other times I thought it was sturdier, with a strong base on its face.
The bird was making hummingbird like movements, and possessed the long thin end on its beak, that I know only from hummingbirds. When landing it was clapping its wings swiftly, until it could hold on to something. Maybe a pole?
It was still too far up for any of us to reach, and other birds too, were flying around it.
Making it hard to think of ways to catch it or reach it.
The bird was black but there were white feathers on its chest.
Not spotted, like a sparrow. But like a few white feathers on its chest, just like most black cats have a few white hairs on their chest. We realized its white chest markings too, were most likely silver. But because we were so taken by its beak, and wondering how we would get him out, we were not particularly concerned with the chest.
But it was a beautiful bird, that much was certain.
A middle-aged woman in a long blue dress and curly brown hair, had joined us. She connected to the bird, who immediately understood she would take him outside.
He landed on her head, so she could walk outside.
We were all very worried that going through a corridor or tunnel, the bird would suddenly fly up and hurt itself.
But of course it didn’t.
It understood the purpose of letting the woman carry him, and sat down comfortable on her head.
It pulled its neck in, looking around with one friendly looking eye.
When I later looked for what bird looked most like this bird, it was this eye, at the side of the head not at the front close to the beak, that convinced me it had been a singing bird or non-violent bird.
The dream ended and I wondered what it had meant. The only thing I understood immediately, was that it had been positive. The people on the square had all been compassionate, and the bird had been beautiful. And everybody had trusted each other.
And a bird with a silver beak was of course a sign of prosperity.
When I later Googled for birds, I found a silver bird brooch that had the unique combination of a strong beak at the basis, but a long curled bill at the end.
I decided to buy the brooch, so that I would never forget the dream.
When I later Googled where the store or online platform was located I saw it was in the city of my dreams: San Francisco.
That is the city where Basic Instinct is situated.
Catherine Tramell has been my “writer persona” for ever. And it is my dream to once go on holiday or even write there for a month or a few months. In the town where Catherine Tramell has her beach house, in Stinson.
The brooch, a Google search result when I was searching for the meaning behind the dream, came from there, my personal holy ground when it comes to what I consider to be success in writing.
But there was more. Because another picture came up. That of the medieval plague masks. These masks have a story of their own, because there are signs they were never used as such. And that it was actually a Venice masked ball invention, which was incorrectly classified as something plague doctors wear.
But wether the medieval plague beaks were really used by doctors, or not, is besides the point I think. Because it gave me the clue, I had managed to miss.
That the beak in my dream was of course, a reference to the pandemic.
And it had a silver lining.
The people were working together.
They were all in awe of beauty, and there were those among us, who knew what to do.
They had a deep wordless understanding of nature, of animals, and the bird of paradise who had visited us under our dome, where we were keeping the world out, that bird understood she would take him out.
The time has come, to leave our dome.
The time has come, to live.
Suzanne L. Beenackers
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