I used to remember my dreams quite vividly. Then, as I grew older, I would usually have a rather vague sense that there had been a dream, but rarely remembered any details.

Then recently, I bought one of those White Noise machines. I didn't buy it for me, I bought it for the soon-to-be one year old, Cruz, that is here in my home for nine hours a day, five days a week. I'm proud of having learned how to get him to take a nap in record time. I had discovered a few things that would get him to relax immediately and my wife started calling me the "baby whisperer". One of those things was white noise. I reasoned that if white noise would put him to sleep, it might also help him stay asleep.

Rather than having the noise machine just sitting idle, I found that it was very pleasant, and more than a bit nostalgic, to play the "surf sound" on it while my wife and I slept. It really sounds just like distant breakers. I don't really know if I sleep better, but the first night that I used it, I remembered the dream I had just before waking. Then the next night and the next. I was beginning to think this might be more than a coincidence.

This morning's dream involved my grandson, Nathaniel. He and I were standing on a ridge overlooking a harbor that was filled with war ships. The ships were not friendly and there was a lot of tension. Somehow, I was aware that an air strike against the ships was coming very soon and I wanted to avoid the shock waves from the explosions. The hillside away from the water was grassy and I told Nathaniel to follow me as I ran a good ways down the hill. I then told him to lay flat as a large number of fighter jets flew right over us in the direction of the harbor. He obeyed and we waited for the blast and...nothing. Not a sound. I began to wonder if I had sounded a false alarm. We finally got up from the grassy slope and climbed back to where we could see the bay. The sinister ships, what was left of them, were now smoking hulks. Completely destroyed. I remember thinking, "How did they do that so quietly?"

That was when I awoke to the soft sound of a distant surf, coming from the white noise machine. I'm glad I don't have to know what these dreams mean, because I don't have a clue. If the dream machine continues to work, I'll keep sharing the dreams. Watch this space.

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