I have already written elsewhere: I am sure to dream, otherwise I would have complaints due to lack of good quality sleep. But I don't know anything about it when I wake up. I can hardly recount any dreams...

Two exceptions: a nightmare in childhood, recurring. For many years. Different nuances each time, but the ‘storyline’ remained the same. Just as abruptly as they began, they ended...

And I can describe a more recent dream that I was surprised to realise. 2019. No special day, no special situation. I dreamt that I had put half of a green cucumber in a pot of potting compost and placed it on my windowsill. I probably wanted it to grow...? It did: one morning I came to the window half awake and there it sat looking at me - half the cucumber was still in the pot, but a lizard had developed from the above-ground half. It tried unsuccessfully to free itself from the soil...

What would Freud and Jung and Domhoff and Hobson deduce from this...?