I had one of those rare – in my case extremely rare – dreams last night where you are semi-lucid. In this dream, I sat on the elevator (tail wing) of a jet on the runway. As the jet took off, I held on for dear life, but as the arc of the jet's trajectory leveled off I was flipped into the air as by a catapult. Tumbling through the sky, I became aware I was dreaming, kind of, and decided to deploy my helicopter backpack. Good thing I decided to wear it that day, I guess. I cruised over Reno for awhile before heading up the mountains toward Tahoe. It got too cold up there, however, and I awoke.

In the dark, in my half-state of wakefulness, I wondered if I had been given this gift of dream by my grandma. I waited in the dark for a long while, listining to the silence.