What is real?

Last night I walked down a country road lined with bushels of grass and tiny yellow flowers. On the left several mythical beasts with sabertooth incisors and leathery wings were — grazing? On the right floated three shimmering see-through jellyfish-like creatures. Intrigued, I switched into my Fishing gear, which allowed me an aura of non-threat towards most hostile entities. I approached one of the beasts, which fortunately ignored me as expected. Close up, the creature was even more fascinating. Its muscles rippled under smooth skin as it moved. Its pair of wings, flapping gently for balance, created visible whirls of dust as the tips brushed the ground. The tail swished gently, leaving a trail of golden sparkles. I stood in awe as a mist of relaxed pleasure enveloped my brain.

I read a book the other day, a well-written story of adventures and love, danger and rescue, bottomless misery and climactic happiness. My heart pounded with worry for the heroine under attack, then beat with excitement when she managed to pull the hidden knife from her boot and stabbed her adversary in the back before he could do his ugly deed. I cried over a lost child found starved at the doorstep of a cruel priest, and I cried again when the mystery of the lost bloodline was solved and the lovers united.

This morning, as I climbed the ladder into the river, I saw the dark head of a sea lion pop up, accompanied by the telltale whoosh of air breathed out. I slid into the murky cold water and swam a few strokes. I spotted the head again, closer now. Even though I knew she would not harm me, I still felt a small pang of fear. “Go somewhere else, there is fish everywhere,” I said while treading water, “Shooh, shooh!” — It worked. I didn’t see the head again, nor any ripples on the surface. I swam a few more strokes when a ring of bubbles started to form around me, like, right around me. Like a donut, and I was the hole. I froze. I thought my heart would, too, but then could neither feel nor see anything more. Soaked in a mix of fascination, joy, and worried anticipation, I waited. The head came up again a stones throw off to the left, glanced in my direction, and took up the serious business of fishing again. I completed my morning swim, after all, there was plenty of room in the river for both of us. A thought occurred to me as my frozen self headed for the hot shower. She’d probably known me all winter.

Later that day, when the first sun of spring had warmed the air, I jumped into the water again, headfirst with open eyes. I kicked my legs and folded my arms alongside my body. I felt my shape change into a blubber-insulated spindle. With my whiskers I could feel whorls of water where fish dashed away into the plant thicket. I could hear the clacking of a crayfish’s claws. I could see the shadow of a large animal thrashing below the surface. I quietly swam up close, rolled on my back so I could see, and recognized the blue and white coloring around its waist. No threat there. I turned a circle and blew some bubbles, then went back to the serious business or fishing again.