I dreamt that I found an enormous atlas in a crowded bookstore. It showed where various animals lived, as well as how some of them moved on a seasonal basis. The atlas was laid out on a huge table. Its pages were coated in glossy plastic, so that the bookstore costumers could write their comments with magic markers wherever they pleased. I remember a stocky woman of about fifty writing her comments across a page showing a region of either Australia or New Zealand. I was standing right behind her. “Out of date,” she wrote in large letters. “People now feed many of these animals, and they have moved closer to where people live.” She also drew some arrows connecting the original animal habitats and sparse towns. I tried to remember everything she drew, for it struck me as very important, but I forgot it by the time I woke up in the middle of the night. As I fell asleep again, I remember struggling to find that wonderful atlas and that particular page with the woman’s comments, but in vain. I could not find the bookstore, either.