I HAD a dream.

And it was a lot less boring than my usual dreams. I dreamt that I looked out my back window and saw that my garden had been totally destroyed.

It wasn't destroyed as in chaos. But all the plants had gone and the soil had been tilled levelly. That's all there was: a level expanse of soil. I saw workmen at the top of the road and realised they'd also worked over another garden.

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It seems they'd levelled mine by mistake. I thought to remonstrate with them, but saw the foreman was a burly fellow. Perhaps I could just make a note in my diary. I have issues with cowardice.

In the dream, my first focal point looking out the back window was a hole in my hedge that actually exists in reality-style life.

Doesn't matter what I do, I cannot fill it, because nothing gets enough light from the surrounding trees and shrubs.

It's a window through which the evil outside world gets in. So I get litter through it. Sometimes, weird dog-walkers just stand staring at the house. Once, I found a dozen bags of dog poo had been thrown through the hole.

I did wait hours to have words with that one (not always a coward when riled) but the blaggard must have seen me and never showed again.

In my dream, the hole and surrounding greenery at first existed, then it panned back and everything became just tilled soil.

It was a good, professional job. But all my plants and grass had gone.

Fascinating, as Mr Spock might say, particularly since most of my dreams are dull. They just replicate my day, with me sitting there staring into space, perhaps occasionally excavating my beak.

Research by Professor Richard Wiseman, of Hertfordshire University, suggests a full moon is a boon if you want your dreams to be interesting. However, checking the lunar calendar for the night of my dream, I find the moon was just 15% full.

Still, the Prof is convinced the moon affects our sleep, and I don't doubt it, if only because he's brainier than I am.

Whatever the case, dreams bother me. If sleep is a kind of death, dreams don't hint at much of an afterlife. But, in sleep, only our subconsciousness lives.

All in all, I think I prefer consciousness. At least there your garden doesn't suddenly disappear.