Down the Rabbit Hole

I am the Walrus...Coo Coo

Last night I had a strange dream. It was very brief, lasting what seemed like only a minute or two but it was so visually stunning, so cinematic, that the details have stayed with me all day.
I was walking through a mountain range with snow-tipped peaks of what looked like chiseled pewter. The path below my feet, which were barefoot, was a soft, orange suede. The air was warm, not what you would expect to encounter while traveling through the mountains. There was a low lying fog, thinly ringed around the peaks and pooling in thicker patches between them. The oddest part was that all through this mountain range there were pockets where the ground leveled out and here what looked like shaggy white and orange walruses collected in small groups. Every so often, I would stop, along with a few of my unknown companions, and watch these creamsicle-colored beasts - feeling euphoric and excited by the discovery. I had the pressing urge to arrive somewhere and was acutely disappointed to find the path lead ended at the edge of a cliff. I watched the other travelers continue on, jumping down into the water and stroking out into the openness beyond. I felt acutely disappointed that I had come a long way for nothing and woke up shortly after I had turned back in the direction from which I had come.
It was fantastic...beautiful really. And I have no idea what it might have meant.