In this dream, a modest amount of water flowed through the dry creek bed on the land where we lived, causing a new generation of pollywogs to hatch. I saw them, under the leaves, scrambling around on their back legs as their tails whipped around.
To further encourage them, I flew over them in my biplane, in close barrel rolls over the damp river bed. In some of these rolls I had the distinct sensation that the dry creek bed was actually in the cockpit with me, which was irrational.
Later on, my supervisor and the head of talent acquisition at my office drove a jeep through the scrub and talked about their vacation — how they went diving, and how they barely caught enough oysters to sell on the roadside to make it back home.