Last night I recalled part of a dream I’d had the night previous to that. The only thing I had originall remembered was that I had been giving this friend of mine, who’s a girl, a piggyback ride. I did some free association, and then started to remember other details. Such as, walking over rocks and tree roots jutting out. And then entering this forest. Not like the dark and dank sort of fir treet forest. But like a light and airy forest, where the trees had white bark. Aspen or cedar. I remembered the shape of the leaves in the dream, and looked it up. They were aspen. We came to this big rock and I set her down on it.

That’s pretty much all I remember from that scene. But two things strike me as relevant here. Actually, three things.

(1) Elsewhere in that dream, she appeared overlapped with some other girl. Like she was both of them at the same time. This other girl was not somebody who I’ve ever “met” but I knew her, and it was like I hadn’t seen her for some time. She was both these people at once. It was almost like I was seeing a possible previous incarnation of her, where we had also known each other.

(2) According to geneological records, my last name should actually be Trembley. It was changed in the 17-1800’s somewhere, due to an adoption by a Trembley ancestor into the Boucher family. Oddly enough, Trembley comes from the French word “Tremblaie” which means “aspen grove.” In case you’re not paying attention, an aspen grove is precisely where we were in this dream.

(3) Supposedly, also, this word “Tremblaie” refers to a region in northern France, although I can’t pinpoint where. Either Normandy or Brittany. Some areas in northern France are also known for their megalithic standing stones, called dolmens or menhir. This rock that she sat down on in the dream could have easily been a fallen-over megalithic monument. Right size, shape and color.

Weird, right? Also weird is the fact that I’ve had at least two other dreams that I can remember which took place in France. I’ve never been to France, but I was pretty damn sure that’s where they were. Both of those actually took place in WWII. In one of them, I was in the French countryside, helping board up a house, and hide the valuables, because we knew that a battle was coming. In the other, I seemed to be flying in a bomber over France with soldiers from other countries. I’m not sure which country I was from in that dream, but it seemed like the other guys in the plane were American and English, and I was not.

I’ve never been historically a huge follower in the idea of reincarnation, but when you start having dreams like this, it all starts to seem a bit more plausible. Especially since all these dreams felt very real and vivid in sensory detail.