Atlanta feels weird. The sky is gray, its unseasonably cooler, and the wind is blowing. It's misting. People are walking in windbreakers. It feels like February here.

I keep having dreams of fields and pastures and all of the people I have ever known in my past are becoming characters who operate within my southern gothic fantasies.

Last night various friends and acquaintances showed up in a hunting chase? after we heard gunshots and then barking dogs and looked to our rights and saw in the distance a pack of brown and black blurs approaching.

I climbed a tree and started shouting, "STOP! STOP!" and one of the dogs, a brown one, raised its head in my direction and snarled. But I perceived a more human sense of emotion. The smile was calculated and sinister; I was the subordinate.

Or I'll have dreams of wetlands that are covered in lilies and watercress. Huge granite stones form channels and bridges. The marshes go on forever. In one dream I was being chased so I jumped into the water to try and hide amongst the plants. I held my breath and put my hand between two of the stones, where one stopped and the new one began, because the current was very strong and I was being pulled into a channel that became a waterfall. I remember thinking that the marsh looked swollen like the Amazon in the rainy season.

Maybe I need to move to South America.