In the dream there was a large ocean creature hoping to be acknowledged as the first true centipede rising up from a deep clear green pool of water that was shaped into a curve, more like a circus peanut than a smile, and we came upon it as we climbed the side of a Swiss chocolate mountain crag. It had been raining for days, and the wet chocolate mountainside was so dark and bittersweet that it made everything else seem light and lemony surrounding it. So too this green pool of cool water, whose smell rose up to our noses as a lemon-lime soda, clearing our sinuses and changing our thoughts of failure into the feeling one gets at the top of a roller coaster, 360 degrees of a moment of no up and no down.
We could hear the seal before we could locate her, our vision blurry from the thin vanilla oxygen. We heard her thick clay grey nose breaking the surface of the water softly, firmly. She was there in a smaller pool of milky water that was connected by a shallow channel to the pool with the ocean centipede in it. She steered mightily in the opposite direction but the pull of the channel was very strong. We were too far away to be of any help, so we stood there licking the backs of our hands in delicious prayer for her, humming and licking until the seal was safely somersaulting on the other side of a pile of timberweed. Since the way we had come had already started to slough itself off behind us, our only hope for getting back home was walking closely past the dark ocean centipede creature, treading water there by the side of the pool like it had nothing but time.