A guy in silhouette against a slightly warm toned sky, sat on a beach wall with one hand behind propping him up, and the other holding a phone in front of him. There is a glass of cider balanced on the wall top in front of him, which the light is shining through, so appears as the only spot of amber colour. Wobbly Bear
August 6th, 2026

dreaming of eagles

whatnot

This morning, in the land between fully asleep and the half-awake of time to get up, I was dreaming. This is very unusual for me because I normally don't remember dreaming at all.

I dreamt I was walking with J, on a nice sunny day along the banks of a lake. I looked up because suddenly the sun flickered above me momentarily, like something had passed in front of it. There, circling above us in a deep blue and cloudless sky were a pair of white-tailed eagles, calling out to each other as they glided high above the lake. They were massive, living up to their nickname of the 'flying barn doors'. I was so excited – probably more excited in my dream than I would normally be in real life – and was jabbing my finger at the sky telling J to "Look! Look!"

I've never seen white-tailed eagles at all, let alone here in... well, I assumed we were in Cornwall still, it looked like it.

And then I woke up.

Dreams are truly a mystery, aren't they?

Well, no, not this one.

The day before, J and I had in fact been for a walk along the shores of a lake on Bodmin Moor. And later that evening as we sat relaxing with our respective reading matter, she read an article from the news out to me.

It was about six young white-tailed eagles having been relocated from Scotland to Exmoor to be released there recently, which was actually very exciting (well, perhaps only for wildlife enthusiasts) because that's only about twenty to twenty-five miles to the north of us here.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c74g0jz3d4yo

We could actually be seeing these impressive creatures ourselves soon as we're easily within their normal day's territory exploration range.

Typical though.

I don't remember dreaming very often, and the one that I do get to remember is not one of those weird, mind-bendingly surreal fantasy ones that you'd delight some psychology professor to unravel the meaning of – perhaps involving some attractive women and melted chocolate – but a predictably straightforward, nearly-awake brain interpretation of two of the previous days events.

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Opening note…