Morning of June 2, 1974. Sunday.

This dream was possibly inspired by Jim Stafford’s “Swamp Witch”, a song I grew to really like, and possibly “Marie Laveau” by Bobby Bare.

I am running through the swamp in Fort Ogden, Florida (where I lived when really young), somehow kicking about three or four of my textbooks into the air with my knees and yet they somehow keep “falling back” to my knees (without scattering or falling) as I continue the routine while running for quite some time with a feeling of happiness and freedom. (The only way this would be possible would be by using a belt or book strap around them rigged in a way which would somehow keep them in front of me in the same general position above my knees - however, it is likely just a typical in-dream impossibility.) It had been the last day of school for the semester (or so I reason in-dream) and I am fully “free”. Eventually, however, I feel that I had ran too far and am far away from home, possibly in a different town or region. It is soon nighttime already. I reach a trailer lit up from the outside with a couple torches on old metal poles. It is extremely vivid and eerie in a stimulating but non-threatening or fearful sense. It is possible I am near Winter Haven. However, the sense of freedom may be relevant to returning to my old home in the swamp where I only lived prior to ever going to public school and the trailer I am looking at is actually my very early temporary childhood home prior to moving to Wisconsin the first time around.

There are voodoo dolls of various types everywhere in rows on the ground (each side of the trailer’s door, but there are many more on the left) and outside shelves (close to the ground). No one else is around. Some look like ordinary dolls from the store in a sitting position while some seem to be made out of small bundles of straw tied with red string. I never actually see a witch, though I know one lives there, perhaps presently at a normal grocery store buying food in the nearest town. I do not question why a shelf would be on the outside of a dwelling rather than indoors. The beauty of this part of my dream (not the imagery, but the mood, color tonality, and “atmosphere” itself) colored my day in a positive way.