Lucid Coverton Cat  I'm with my mom and others. We're all getting dressed and prepared for dinner. We're having a taco festival. We're at the Redding farm. One man there makes me mad: he backs up into me. One man steals my moustache and acts like he won't return it. I talk to my mom as if she is new here, a visitor. I tell her this is how unpeaceful it is here: harsh language, conflict, hatred, anger, which all occurs in silence. I walk out the porch door. To my left I see Seaside Hill. The base is visible but the peak is in clouds. I realize I'm dreaming because Seaside Hill is not near the Redding farm. I fly around the farmyard, slowly and low to the ground. I see the black and white cat that roamed the neighborhood of my flat in Coverton, and often visited the flat. I land and call the cat over to me. It doesn't come at first. I try to use my will power to make it come over to me. It comes closer, and is about ten feet away. I don't force it to come any closer: I try to respect the cat's wishes. I sit there a while with the cat nearby. I think about the cat: what it's doing, what, and who it is. I tell the cat that I'll see it again.