I was in a house at night time and in a bedroom that was upstairs.  It was really a lot like the house at 122 Mortimer Avenue but wasn’t that house.

It also seemed like Amie Tothmanner’s house at Farm’s Site, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.  The old sprawling bungalow was elevated off the street in the front.

Isis da Braga hurriedly came to me and told me that she had seen some extra-humans outside.  She was somewhat panicked but I told her not to be upset.  By the news of extra-humans, I was really calmed and warmed.

I got up and was really excited but not on the verge of panic.  We went back to the rear of the house and looked out.  Just then, there was a beautiful rain downpour.  The rain was just so heavy and so gorgeous.

I stood there drinking in the rain’s healing beauty.  I loved listening to it and in time I was enraptured.  It was rather grey and balmy.  We waited and waited as the rains fell.  It was, indeed, really nice.

She then began giving me a description of what the extra-humans looked like.  They were Black she had said.

Later, after the rainfall, I went out to the street to head up towards Crab Hill and our house.  It was then that I had encountered a lone extra-human in the street.

The EH was across from Amie Tothmanner’s and between Adam Procopp’s and the Sandy Point Public Market.  They were of a different species from the ones that had evolved here on Earth.

Our souls had chosen to evolve here from simian mammals.  However, that group of souls had chosen a totally different species into which to have incarnated and evolve.

Nonetheless, they were also simian mammalians.  They had large, large, beautiful soulful eyes which bespoke the fact that they had been evolving in that race millions of years longer than we had here, on Earth, in the race of simian mammals chosen in excess of four million years ago.

They were a very ancient, very aged race.  They also had mouths that were O-shaped and, when they spoke, it took a bit of getting used to the mechanics of their speech.  Basically, their mouths worked vertically as opposed to our horizontally familiar arrangement – thus making them O-shaped.

The faces were extremely tiny and delicate-looking.  These people were also very short – between 4.5 and 5.0 feet tall – and thus appeared very squat.  Their torsos were very thick; barrel-chested, this made them appear even more so squat.

Their limbs, however, were very long and rakish.  The legs were very skinny and set wide apart, at the top, in their unusually wide hips.  These soulful extra-humans did not wear clothes.

The extra-human stood there perfectly naked and not the least bit self-conscious.  Their skin was so very dark and rich that it did not matter that they were naked.

There were also no genitals discernible because, up past labiate folds, both men and women had their sex hidden.  It was also customary, I had intuited, for both males and females to have changed their sex during the course of the life experience.

This was a process as natural as pubescence but which occurred later in the life experience for them.  This sex change by the way occurred at least once.

When the males of that species became aroused then their impressive sex descended past their extensive labiate folds.  I saw all this, as I had intuited, in a rapidly progressive inner vision.  It was very interesting.

A great deal of space sat at the top of the legs, in both sexes, which was really unisexed when you think of it.  The arms and legs were disproportionately long and sported a lot of cable-like veins.

The arms and legs were very thin and so birdlike that it actually looked like they had suffered rigor mortis and had lost all the fluids in their limbs.  Very dried-up-looking, ancient and parched, they looked, as though they were a desert-dwelling people.

They looked as though no moisture had ever touched their skin.  Very, very interesting arrangement their life experience was.

One other thing about these extra-human persons was the fact that they could, at will, grow these wonderful gossamer wings.  Just like a spider could produce web, at will, so too could they have created a web-like wing which they could also use for transportation means.

They, too, could unfold these silken gossamer-looking wings.  They unfolded from their wrists, up to their armpits then down again, all the way down to their squat-torsoed, broad hips.

Immediately on having seen the wings unfold, I realised the purpose for such squat, barrel-chested torsos.  I also realised then that their thin-boned limbs were not unlike a bird’s – they simply had no feathers.

They would simply hunch their broad, bony shoulders placing the arms by their sides and begin secreting this temporary wing system.  It came, on closer inner-visioned inspection, from these labiate folds.

The fold system extended the length of the inside of their arms from the wrist, to the armpits then down the torso, to just above the wide hips.  I was able to get this inner vision because it was being telepathically shared with me by the very soulfully warm, male extra-human.

Using this secreted membrane, the otherworldly simian mammals were thus able to fly.  Here in the dreamtime, this was a truly remarkable discovery to have made.

I instinctively knew why they were there in the dreamtime.  I knew that they were not come to Earth to interfere with anybody.

“Isis, this is a dream.  They are here, in the dreamtime, just like I travel to different worlds.  So too can they travel, in the dreamtime, here from another world.”

Thus I was very accommodating to this extra-human.  I was very friendly and nice to him by opening both my arms, lowered, in a wide-open embrace and poured a ton of love from my solar plexus and directed it right into him.

I telepathically explained to him, as he had communicated with me, that I knew that he was here because he had travelled in a dream.  He understood and accepted my Love.

I told him that I too had been to other worlds myself.  I assured him that he was quite welcome to be here on Earth and that I hoped he had a good time whilst here.

I was being an ambassador to him.  He really did appreciate the warmth that I had extended him.  I continued on and told him that he should have no trouble being here.  I told him that it would be reasonable to expect some people to be afraid at the sight of him.

However, I reminded him that he was at an advantage because he could always take flight with his gossamer wings.  I knew full well that, even though this was the dreamtime, most Earthlings encountered therein are so somnambulant when awake in the waking state that they then progressed into the dreamtime just as asleep.

Thus they could not have been expected to know that, whilst in the dreamtime, they too had the capacity to fly at will.  He could easily escape from these people, if they were to grow fearful and were to try and upset him.  

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The preceding dream occurred, on Sunday, November 25, 1990, whilst the Moon transited both Aquarius and my ninth house.  This dream is one which I refer to as a starfaring dream because it involved a dream encounter with an ensouled creature of reason, an extra-human individual, who was visiting Earth during the dreamtime. 

As there are only two forces in the universe, there are therefore only one of two ways to perceive any and everything.  There is also only one of two ways to respond to one’s perceptions: either from a place of love or from a place of fear. 

These two forces, love and fear, are the two constants which span time and space and which resonate throughout the cosmos.  Since I was fully lucid and self-aware in this dream, I fully accepted that the being encountered was ensouled and an extra-human who was visiting Earth.  

Why should he not have been visiting Earth, much as I do visit other worlds, through the expediency of the dreamtime?  I chose to both perceive and interact, with the extra-human visiting Earth’s astral plane, from a place of love. 

Of course, for having taken the long lonely journey with Merlin, I was thereafter in a state of harmony for learning the greatest of lessons – human compassion.  Had it not been for what Merlin and I had achieved together, during the long eighteen months of his end-of-life illness, I could not have responded to the extra-human in the dreamtime as I did. 

I related to him exactly as I would have wanted to be, both perceived and engaged, were I an extra-human in his world’s astral plane experienced during the dreamtime’s expediency.  The dreamtime has the ability to afford one a range and depth of experiences which can be had by no other means. 

For having been both loving, open and accepting of the extra-human visitor in the dreamtime, as the next dream reveals, I was able to visit with this extra-human’s species on their nascent home planet.  It was one of the most beautiful and lucid dream experiences ever had. 

The following starfaring dream occurred in exquisite and ecstatic lucidity, on Saturday, December 29, 1990, whilst the Moon transited both Gemini and my first house.  This dream was a complement to the preceding dream and resulted after my having been open, compassionate and loving towards the visiting extra-human.  It was sequential dream which was born of the dream encounter with the extra-human in the dream streets of Sandy Point, St. Kitts a month earlier.  

The following dream visitation deftly illustrates that to give of self, to be open, to be accepting and acting of love is the portal to a more enriched life experience.  

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I found myself very lucidly awakened in a very strange world.  I was very high up on a canyon wall.  On the left side of the entrance, to be exact, to the canyon was I.

There was a metropolis way down inside the abyss of the canyon.  Inside, it was easily in excess of five miles deep – much deeper than anything we have here on Earth.

In the bottom of the abyss, at the centre, was a mount which itself was quite tall but from these heights seemed otherwise.  What it was like, in fact, was an inverted Machu Pichu because on this mount’s towering peak was a wonderful old metropolis.

This beautiful complex metropolis was still very much so alive.  Down to the left, down in the far section, was a beautiful, long landing strip.  This entrance to the canyonned metropolis, way at the top, was not very wide.

At least from afar, it looked that way.  The scale here was so much more massive than anything comparable on Earth that it did take awhile to figure it all out.

There were planes which did come into the canyonned metropolis.  They were not like planes as we know them here on Earth.  There was one that was approaching to land.  It was silver and more than a block long – rather impressive.

It had a wingspan that was not unlike a Concorde’s but it was much more extensive and began further to the rear of the craft.  Making it seem sentient in that sense, this jetliner was going very, very slowly.

Rather than air, it appeared to be moving through a densely aqueous medium.  It seemed like a whale that was just leisurely cruising.  It was very, very majestic.

However, one did get the sense that this craft had the capacity to do faster-than-light speeds.  More than that, the craft very well could possibly travel intergalactically or interdimensionally.

There were, as well, other kinds of planes.  As though made of cellophane, they had wings that were seemingly transparent.  Some were like a dragonfly’s wings, they were also double-winged, not unlike some of the earlier aeroplanes that did combat duty during World Wars I and II.

These wings were whirring, actually creature-like, flapping so rapidly that they almost seemed not to have been moving.  This was how these planes propelled themselves rather than by using propeller systems.

What was interesting about this was that there was some sort of wind disturbance in the canyon.  This was what presently prevented the planes from properly approaching to land.

Even though it was very large because it was still a confined space – canyonned – the canyon was closed off at the other end.  Thus the wind currents that came in, deep down inside, made it possible for the planes to move quite slowly and as if at will gently riding the air currents circling all the way down to safely land.

As that location of the near-sealed canyon best facilitated liftoffs and landings, the landing strips were off in that corner.  Deep inside the canyon, the trapped winds always circulated in a set pattern and rotated always in the same direction.

However, here in this dream, it was dark and moist.  The sky, which was very distantly removed, was overcast.  The entrance was wide but from the distance, as I had made my approach in flight, did not at all seem that way.

My approach was in a small, glass-fronted space shuttle that could easily have been an interstellar craft.  It was not unlike the space shuttle I took with Pandora da Braga in that interstellar flight, on September 9, 1989.

On arriving, the entrance was actually quite wide.  It was colossal, in fact, and could easily have accommodated the Concorde-like craft that I had seen way down below.  The entrance was a few blocks wide but from afar it did not seem so at all.

This very impressive entrance, to the canyon, was in excess of twenty storeys probably closer to fifty.  To get to this entrance, I had been travelling in a little gorge which seemed very deep.

There it was very lush, wet and a riotous tropical forest.  Lots of impressively massive arboreal species were present there.  Very intensely alive and richly hued, of various tonalities, were the arboreal gems.

However, that was not even the half of it.  As soon as one cleared the seemingly narrow entrance to the canyon, one was posited into this beautifully breathtaking panorama of the canyonned Metropolis.

It was a drop that was miles and miles down to the seemingly tiny, little mount, with the Machu Pichu-like metropolis, which was very much so alive and occupied.

Here the race of sentient beings was dark-skinned and long-haired.  They were jet-black-haired like the Amerindians of Machu Pichu.  These, however, were a very, very black-skinned and tiny people in stature.

This was very much so a living civilisation.  As we had approached, I noticed that on either side of the colossal entrance to the canyon was a boulevard of stately landscaped trees.

The canyon’s rock face was quite carved out with a lot of architectural leitmotifs.  There were hieroglyphs as in Egypt but in an altogether different sensibility.

The sweep of the architecture was very organic.  As if massively pressurised and moved during glacial activity, it was essentially the multi-millennial motion of stone.

It was the capture of the perpetual, timeless slow movement of stone which, somehow, this august civilisation had managed to have captured and quite ingeniously so.  For looking at this architecture, one had a sense of movement.

All in one inspiring movement, it was very magnetic, gravitationally-oppressive and groundingly uplifting.  In fact, this movement was still discernible in the lines of the architecture.

One had the sense of this architecturally being more so along the lines of Antoni Gaud토in a Gaian reference.

Next I was outside of the craft, on the left bank or chasm of the canyon.  It proved, in fact, to have been the left wall of the canyon.  I had looked to my left where the stone was grey but, somehow, it seemed to have been that colour because it was reflecting the clouds in the sky.

Here it was very windy, wet and very turbulent.  This was why, in fact, I had gotten out of the craft that I was in.  The craft had circled a couple of times but we weren’t able to land.

There were some other travellers, aboard the shuttle craft with me, none of whom I knew or recognised.  Thus we had been dropped off, up near the entrance, to wait out the turbulent windstorm which was definitely not a rainstorm.

I had managed my way onto this little ledge and noticed, more closely, that the rock was inordinately sculpted.  There were lots of intricate architectural designs, even here at this nondescript-seeming ledge, which was a mere outcropping in the canyon wall.

At this intimate proximity to the architecture, there was a greater sense of the sweeping motion of this rock.  It was not just intricate curved architectural shapes that were simply vertical or arrested as in classical Greek or Roman architecture.

This was, in fact, even beyond the aliveness of Gothic architecture in its superior spirituality.  It was truly living art.  It was Gaudí-like but more than Antoni Gaudí’s style.

It would seem that Antoni Gaudí was, in the dreamtime or at a deeper level of the soul from past reincarnational cycles, impressed by this living architectural style.

Antoni Gaudí was impressed by this style but what he was able to have realised, in this dimension’s waking state, was a feeble emulation of this style’s superior refinement and movement.

Nonetheless, at least Antoni Gaudí was able to have developed or bring forth these ideas and moved them along parallel to similar lines here on Earth.

This was clearly in a different dimension so that it was more alive than Antoni Gaudí’s creative genius has realised.  It was simply living architecture.

On having precariously found myself out on a limb, as it were, I began growing fearful.  I had noticed that the reason why we couldn’t have landed was because of the very turbulent storm, which churned at breakneck violent speeds, dizzying miles way below at the mount’s peak and even further below that.

It turned out that because there was nothing but wind currents in this canyon, the civilisation was subjected – from time to time – to these incredible windstorms.  During these times of great turbulence, it was impossible to have gotten out.

Luckily a man came along and came to my rescue.  He had been part of the travelling party with which I had arrived.  Although I can’t now recall his race whether human or not, however, if he had been then I am certain that he was White.

He was ridiculously tall and Nordic and decidedly hyper-hirsute, on the arms, which I had noticed as he had reached out to me.   Not unlike the claims of the Nordics, extra-humans who currently frequent Earth, was he.

There were some persons aboard this craft who did not fit either the human or this civilisation’s notion of the familiar native beau idéal.  In other words, this was a very cosmopolitan, interstellar travelling party.

He was an older man who was tall, lean, rakish and very noble of spirit.  When extending his hand to me, he had sought to draw me away from making a mess of things.  For having noticed the violent storm way below, I had become focussed on my fears.

He was concerned about me for having been seated alone out on the tiny ledge of outcropping rock.  Even at this level, so high up, it was already getting increasingly windy.

There were constant gusts of wind, out of the cavernous canyon, making their way up.  These winds only kept on getting more and more powerful.

It was actually possible to see the currents’ advancing ascent because of the way that they barrelled over all the signs of life in their path.

Though this was a barren-walled canyon, on which the civilisation was principally centred, the mount was covered with lush vegetation.  There, it was very terraced and beautifully landscaped.

All around the mount, which was sunken in an inner gorge, were mountains with lush vegetation and they towered even higher than the central Machu Pichu-like peak.

It was this encircling mountain range that concavely sloped up about the central peak, to eventually meet the sheer rock face of the canyon, which had served as the agricultural belt of the civilisation.

It was a totally self-perpetuating biospheric system.  The plant life, on the encircling mountain range, was a very lush rainforest that was always mist-shrouded which teamed with dense, self-perpetuating life.

In essence, it was the lungs of the civilisation.  The mountain plants provided all the fresh oxygen that the entrapped metropolis, buried way below in the belly of the canyon, so desperately needed.  This organic encircling mountain range was what kept the air, in the canyon, from becoming dead and stale.

It recycled the air at those depths and kept the civilisation and its extra-humans alive.  It was a warm, moist, very humid rainforest.  This was a very healthy, densely oxygenated, clean civilisation.  Very organic and in tune with nature was this place.

It was a temperate humidity with a fine spray of mist that was humid and as cool as, I suspect from what I have heard, Hong Kong is in its cooler months.

All the way along, above the vegetation line where the encircling mountains sloped outward to join the rock face, I noticed a series of wonderful portals that seemed haphazardly placed.

They were these O-shaped openings which led inside to the living quarters of this civilisation’s citizens.  Just before crawling into one and to safety with the extra-tall, White extra-human male’s kindly help, I had noticed this.

They were a different species altogether.  These portals were quite unique in design.  They had the same swirling sense of motion to them as the rock face and architecture.  They were opal-shaped with some larger than others.

These were incredibly beautiful yet simple abodes.  They were as if an air bubble that had been halved, when someone had archeologically sliced through the rock, creating the canyonned wall.

Thus the portals had created the effect of air bubbles, in motion, in any direction that the rock’s pressurised motion had taken them.  There was a lot of bas relief around the portals to the abodes’ entrances.

The face of the canyon was brown-to-grey-coloured and very much so totally, architecturally designed.  What was very interesting here was that, when the man who had come and given me a hand as I had been clinging on terror-struck onto the large sculptural stone pillar, those pillars were much like those oversized pillars in the film Legend, starring, Tom Cruise.

He had guided me around two pillars that were similar to those in the aforementioned film.  As I had been quite close to falling and perishing, cause for concern was understandable.

At the time I had thought,

‘My god, what if I fall?  I am not like the citizens here in this civilisation of their dimension.’

This, I thought, even though lucidly aware that I was dreaming and therefore imbued with the ability to fly in the dreamtime.  The fact is that these citizens, though simian-stocked like we humans are, were shorter extra-humans.

It was the same extra-humans race, one of whom I encountered in the streets of Crab Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts, in the interspecies, starfaring dream encounter on November 25, 1990, which inhabited this far-off civilisation to which I have starfared.

As a result, here was I paying a visit to the home world from which that dreaming, spacefaring extra-human had originated.  It was as though, for having been accepting of this interdimensional, ensouled dream traveller, I was then welcome and open to have made the transit to his dimension and reciprocally experience his world.

Indeed, the simple eloquence of causality validated here.  For having lovingly accepted this visitor’s soul quality, I would have the universe repay me with a voyage to his home world’s richness of spirit.  This world seemed to be situated in another dimension.

Perhaps, it may even have been here on this particular planet in another time.  Perhaps, this extra-human civilisation predated us – here on Earth – by some three million years or one and one half million years ago.

It was, however, an evolutionary path along which humanity branched off or one in which humanity exists pursuing a probable reality – one wherein we have the capacity of flight.  Here was I enjoying a visitation dream to this wonderful lush, lush world of theirs.

Merely all that the people had to do, who lived in these portalled abodes in the canyon wall, was leap from the portal entrance of their caved dwellings to take flight.  As a result of the constant wind currents, inside the partially sealed canyon, they were able to ride the circulating wind currents down to the rest of the canyon-city below.

For that matter, they could just as easily ride these wind currents, back up to their dwellings in the canyon wall.  It would not have been difficult for them to have ascended from the metropolis mount way down in the canyon.

They simply glided when in flight, for the most part, since the winds here were so heavy and controlled.  When they wanted to ride a particular wind current, however, they would have to energetically flap their wings to get into the groove of the particular current.

There was a great sense of beauty to these creatures as they were constantly gliding when in flight.  Wherever you looked, there were extra-human persons effortlessly gliding through the air in winged flight.

The air currents that circled on the periphery of the canyon were the cooler currents.  Those air currents were exclusively used when descending from the dwelling portals down to the mount, the valley and agricultural encircling mountains below.

Near the centre, above the agrimountains and the central Machu Pichu-like mount, the heats generated enabled the winged simians to ascend and circle upwards – like soulful eagles coasting upwards in circling flight – en route back to their portalled canyon dwellings.

They were simply majestic, when in flight, like a race of ensouled cranes.  Each much resembled an eagle, with its wings spread, slowly soaring through the air.

There was such beauty to their movement for it was so slow, timeless and graceful.  You could keenly sense them navigating their way through the crosscurrents and constantly measuring the wind currents.

Going up was simply beautiful because all they would have to do was arch their backs.  With wings not fully extended, pulled forward towards and ahead of them, they would ride one of the warm air currents.  They would be arched up and back.  It was simply incredible to have witnessed this.

There was such utter beauty to their graceful lives.  I was simply inspired and moved beyond belief.

At the entrance to the canyon, there was always a fierce, cool wind current that came in off the lush, canopied rainforest.  It then spilled into the canyon and fell, immediately circling the periphery of the near-circular canyon on its way to the bottom.

It was interesting to fathom how these wind currents were used.  If one wanted to get to the very built-up metropolis, at the peak of the Machu Pichu-like mount, one had to ride the winds down further than the top of the peak.

One then moved away from the periphery of the canyon, which at that level was the sloped up encircling mountain range, thereby entering the warm updraughts.  Thus one was then able to soar one’s way back up towards the central mount’s peak or anywhere on its incline to the top.

Conversely, when returning from the peak way below to one’s portalled dwelling in the rock face, one rode the warm currents for considerably higher than the level of the portal to the desired dwelling.  Then, as below, the shift was made circling outwards to catch the downward circulation of cooler winds.

Thus one got down to the desired portal on the periphery of the counterbalanced wind currents.  This was a truly marvellous and orderly mode of travelling.  Everywhere that one looked, there were innumerable winged extra-humans gracefully circling.  They were either going upwards or flying downwards.

Looking down to the canyon floor below, I could see the effects of the turbulent storms from the way trees on the central mount and mountains were being swayed and effortlessly snapped.  This awareness arrived at after having noticed that, all of a sudden, there were not as many of the winged simians flying through the air.

It was a really violent storm that heavily imprinted on the lush rainforest way below.  At one point, looking down, I got the thrill of my life on seeing this particular giant mango tree.

I was immediately energised by it.  It so reminded me of the mango tree that I had planted.  It made me wonder if, in fact, this experience was not inspired by that wonderful act of selfless sharing that had moved me to have planted that mango seed from Nevis which resulted in the mango tree.

It was quite beautiful to have seen and it proved rather calming in the process.  These extra-human little men kept their long black hair tied back in ponytails – both males and females actually.

The women carried their young on their backs during flight.  It would seem, from the commonality, that they bore twins each pregnancy.  There was a lot of screaming and screeching – their screeching, interestingly, sounded like that of birds of prey rather than a humanoid register.

Rather high-pitched were their cries.  This was the case for both sexes.  The screams occurred when, sometimes down close to the canyon’s bottom, they would be caught in a violent gust and sent crashing through the air.  The winds, during this storm, were very, very turbulent.

They never did crash to the ground but the initial displacement elicited the piercing screams.  They would then quickly recover after a sudden drop of a few hundred feet.  Then again, this could very well have been a form of sport to ride the stormy winds – akin to surfing the waves during a hurricane.

This was the initial reason why I had become terrified because, on having witnessed this, I had suddenly become aware of my own vulnerability.  Although I knew that it was a dream and I therefore could fly, I was still afraid to have possibly found myself caught in one of those violent gusts that slapped one into an air pocket.

I had freaked out when thinking that it was soon enough going to happen, up here at these heights, yet here was I without wings.  If I were to have attempted to fly, this undoubtedly meant that I would crash to the ground.

It was at that point that, as my fears were unwittingly telepathically projected, the unusually tall, White extra-human male had come and lovingly extended me his hand.

The height of this man suggested that, although he looked human-enough, he just may have been like all others aboard the arriving shuttle not human but an extra-human.

He had courageously taken me by the hand, around the corner of the massive stone pillars, to the safety of one of the many portalled abodes’ interior.

On entering, it was as though you were inside a building.  The cave immediately sloped down with the cool stone wall concavely carved out to the floor that was some feet below.  There was a gangplank walkway, directly from the perpetually open portal, to the main floor sunken a bit lower than the entrance.

This feature was so that when the perpetually cool winds entered the portal they would then, following the line of the sloping interior, fall into this deep trough that encircled the entire parametres of the dwelling.

Somehow, the wind would then be used here, to create circulation and was recycled inside the dwelling.  All throughout, the walls of the dwelling as well as down in the trough, there were tiny swirling-looking portals in the rock which allowed for the winds to be released.

Excess cool winds from unusually strong winds entering, like at present during one of the canyonned metropolis’s fierce storms, were readily dispersed through the tiny swirling-looking rock portals.  In this way, you would never have the dwelling inundated by gale force gusts.

This was a very, very intelligently evolved civilisation whose dwellings were very intelligently, functionally designed.  It made such perfect sense, on entering, to have seen the trough system.

This was again repeated, at the centre of the circular dwelling, such that you had the creation of counter circulating wind currents indoors as outside in the canyonned civilisation.  This was so revolutionary – practicality and functionality perfectly harmonised.

There was a central column on the inside of the dwelling thus making it tepee-like or tent-like, if you like, though it was a pure rock interior.  In this particular dwelling whoever the host family was I did not see.

The extra-human man, who had extended his arm to me, was very much wrinkled and very, very skeletal.  He was much like that race of people was.  I knew it was the same extra-human race as I had encountered, a month earlier, in the dream streets of Sandy Point, St. Kitts.

However, I never did have a face-to-face encounter in this dream as in the first encounter weeks earlier.  Nonetheless, I was able to recognise this EH species from the earlier dream.

During the dream, I had total refamiliarisation with the dream – on November 25, 1990 – a month earlier.  I was warmed by the remembrance of the lone extra-human’s soulful warm eyes of a month earlier.

Though this was not the case during the course of the dream, I had the sense that from time to time – either seasonally or at controlled times – a mighty river was allowed to enter the canyon by way of the entrance that I had used when in the shuttle craft.

The waterfall would be quite massive and would fall the five-if-not-more miles to the slopes below that formed the civilisation’s agricultural belt.  I can’t imagine how beautifully thunderous the sounds of such a towering waterfall would be.  This was a truly magical world.

The waterfall would provide added moisture and a fresh clean source of water for the entire canyonned civilisation.  I would imagine that during the waterfall the mist it created also would generate temporary cloud systems within the canyon.

This was a most beautiful civilisation.

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Photo: Machu Pichu, Peru.

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