Dream: I died in a plane crash. I didn’t see the crash in my dream, but I remembered it was in the bush in Alaska.
As I walk among the living, I am occasionally able to talk to them, though what I say only seems to influence their moods or reactions to things.
I stay close to Abby and try to help her in her daily affairs. When I tell her to take care of my cameras, she smiles, like my suggestion made her think of it.
We are then at a northwestern sawmill. After a large meal, during which I almost become visible, a group of Abby’s friends and family go outside build a giant fire from the felled trees for the mill. Fire, it seems, will make the dead visible.
I woke up from this dream feeling even more affection for my wife than usual.