I dreamt last night I was stood under a shelter on a country property. I was holding an empty glass bottle. Many ants were wandering around on the surface. I tried to sweep them away with my hand, unsuccessfully.

A woman arrived. She reminded me this was the wrong approach. She demonstrated, holding the butt off the bottle to her face and generating a cycle of air that carried the ants away. 

Later, a small organic object on a wall, the size of a peppercorn, caught our eye. It opened out slightly, like a budding flower, before closing again. We noted it and carried on. It re-appeared, grew a little more, before again retracting.

Finally it opened again, this time expanding fully into the body of a flying insect. As its back and wings filled out, a delicate central wing-like membrane materialised, connected at the top of the thorax and extending half way to the base. As the insect’s head tilted forward and back, intricate patterns emerged on the surface of the membrane. It became apparent that the patterns were, in effect, themselves alive, moving even when the insect remained still. They might be described as holographic, having a three dimensionality that extruded from the two dimensional plane of the membrane. Colour gradients of indescribable subtlety and beauty, the dominant element in shades of turquoise.

Here, the woman was uninitiated, and it was me that was familiar, though I was nonetheless taken aback and intoxicated by this display of divinity. 

A small group of people dressed in white linen gathered around. Their stance towards me was one of humble discipleship. They were here to learn what I had to tell of the insect. I faltered as I began to speak, suddenly unsure of myself. 

3 May 2026