heron shadow puppet dream

I dreamed about a character -- I can't remember what they were now, but some kind of half-anthropomorphized storybook animal. they were in the foreground of a sort of shadow puppet play, where, as the character walked from left to right, the scenery scrolled behind them, with elements at different depths moving at different speeds to create an illusion of parallax. it was a view through trees and shrubs and grasses onto a lake. it was like a comic, so as they walked, they were walking through time from the past into the future.

there was a woman's voice reading the story, like a librarian at story time in school. her voice was gentle and kind. the story was telling about how this animal discovered music through humming. that they started simply, but eventually were able to hum longer notes than any other animal, and started to hum different tones.

early in the story, I noticed the tiny silhouette of a great blue heron in the distance, in the shallows of the lake. as the vegetation scrolled past they waded along, or would take flight briefly to keep pace with the animal character in the foreground. they were like a little visual easter egg. there was a sly cheekiness to them, like they were photobombing the main story. I remember thinking "oh, I will tell my friends on The Base about this!"

somehow eventually the character in the foreground was playing the tenor saxophone. they had moved on from humming and were now playing these long, slow, abstract jazz solos. I lost track of the distinction in identity between this foreground character and the heron I had been keeping track of in the background so now, somehow, this foreground animal (who I still can't remember what they were) had become the heron from the background and the heron, now in the foreground, was playing these hauntingly beautiful cascades of notes.

they echoed across the water, across the lake