A few nights ago, I woke from a dream, which played out before me like a movie:
A white crane fluttered around a city street. Nearby, deeply concerned people were looking for the crane. The bird had once been human, and the people desperately wanted to break the spell before the crane forgot about life as a human.
The crane flew around a building and landed in a tree at the edge of a park. The tree was filled with thirty other white cranes. The cranes all sat still, silently. Suddenly all the cranes flapped their wings and turned to face the opposite direction, except the one crane who had been a human. The people searching for the crane came around the corner and saw the flock of birds.
The scene zoomed into the single crane. The crane thought, “I wonder what the birds are looking at? Should I turn around too?” The crane looked down at the people and thought, “These humans are here looking for me.”
As the crane in the tree sat suspended between life as a crane and life as a human, the crane knew they were both a dream.
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