I was sitting on the ground on the side of a field, holding something made from pieces of wood. On the ends were two flat pieces connected together by two round, wooden rods about 30 centimeters long. Although tiny pieces of wood had been glued along the length of each rod, all the pieces had fallen off one rod and were lying on the ground. I picked up one of the small pieces and looked at it. It was shaped like a rectangular cube. The base was about a half centimeter square and the height about a centimeter, except the height had been cut off diagonally from top to bottom.

I saw that the little pieces were supposed to fit on the circular rod. I put one in its place, and realized just how much work someone must have gone through in making this contraption. I put it back down, thinking I certainly wasn't going to spend my time fooling with it.

A tall, thin man probably in his early 50s walked up. At the same time I noticed a small wooden chair designed for children. I realized the man had been building the chair, and that it wasn't yet complete. As I examined its mortise joint, it seemed somewhat interesting to me, but once again, it didn't seem like the type of thing I wanted to spend my time doing.

I suddenly noticed quite a few small children (3-4 years old) around me had started running across the field. It was time to eat and the children were going to the house on the other side. I also stood and began walking across the field. I hadn't gone far when I saw a broken baseball on the ground. I picked it up and examined it. It was only torn in one spot, and just a bit lopsided. It appeared that someone may have run over it. I threw it back in the direction of the wooden objects, thinking someone might be able to use it later.

As I continued across the field, I was impressed by how green it was. A crop was planted on the field and it was about 20 or 30 centimeters high. It seemed so lush and beautiful. I had such a good feeling that I was in the heartland of America, and the growing crop seemed to symbolize its beauty.

As I hurried along, I thought it would be a good place to fly. With complete confidence I began lifting off the ground. I hovered about a meter high, propelling myself slowly across the field. I experienced a feeling of intense pleasure. It felt so good and natural to fly. I was no longer surprised by my ability to do so, I had flown so often. What surprised me was that so few other people flew. It also surprised me that no one seemed to notice when I flew. Other people were crossing the field, and I thought they could see me, but no one seemed to pay attention.

As I continued, I tried different positions. Once I lay on my back and languidly floated along. I was thinking of a position I thought I would like to try. It resembled a yoga exercise I frequently did. In the exercise I would lie on my stomach on the ground. Then I would bend my legs at the knees to my sides. I would grab my toes with my hands, pulling my self up until I was holding my feet over the top of the back of my head. It looked a bit like an ellipse, but in my mind I envisioned a whale. It seemed pretty, but I decided not to try it right then. I just keep floating along.

As I neared the house, I had a picture of a deep well by the house. I wondered what would happen if I were to fly down inside the well. Or what if I would somehow just end up in the well. It bothered me that I might not be able to fly out, and I thought I should avoid the well.

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