Stradey woods dream

This is an extremely complicated dream although having took place a couple of years ago still has me stumped this day in September 2024.

I’m not sure where to begin. I found myself staring at the crisp white pages of a notebook that documented accounts of those who had heard the music the phantom music of Stradey Woods. Strangely, there were no names, only vague entries: “person 11:40 woods music,” “people 10:40 woods music,” “person 3:40 woods music.” The list continued in this manner, line after line.

In my mind’s eye, I pictured the woods. A heavy, eerie sensation crept over me as I imagined them. Then, as though summoned by my thoughts, I heard the music. It flowed mysteriously, out of nowhere, surrounding me like a ghostly melody. I looked back at the notebook, struck by an overwhelming need to uncover the truth. Who were these unnamed people? Why were only times recorded and why did they all end in 40?

A determined urgency filled me, mixed with a curious lightness. The question burned inside me: what was happening in Stradey Woods? The music’s strange presence refused to wane. As I turned back to the pages, I noticed something else: the notebook’s once-pristine sheets had now aged, their edges yellowed. And at the very bottom of the list was an entry that stopped me cold: “Me 1:40 woods music.”

I jolted awake, switching on the bedside lamp. The clock read just past 1:40 a.m. I was in bed, yet the vision felt so real, as though I had been physically there. The urge to chase the music lingered, accompanied by the image of the notebook hovering in my mind. I couldn’t shake the questions. Why had the book appeared new when I first saw it, but aged the next time I turned to it? Was it a distortion of time? Could I have been astral traveling or even time traveling, flipping between past and present? Does that notebook exist somewhere now, in this timeline, or was it all just a dream? If it was, it was no ordinary dream. I may never find the answer.

I know Stradey Woods exists. Years ago, I filmed there for a paranormal program. I haven’t thought about the place or returned since. Yet its mysteries remain vivid, drawing me back.

The stories associated with the woods are chilling. One speaks of a phantom jogger, who died after being struck by a car on the road that runs through the woods in the 1930s. Witnesses have described a young man, dressed in outdated 1930s running gear, sprinting faster than any living human could. Over the years, local police have received numerous calls about this strange figure.

Another tale recounts a badly decomposed body found hanging in a remote part of the woods. No one knows how long it had been there, or even how true this story really is.

I can say this with certainty: the dream I experienced was real. It happened to me. Its details remain sharp in my mind, and the questions it left behind are ones I’m desperate to answer. If anyone can shed light on what this means on the phantom music, the notebook, or the mysteries of Stradey Woods I’d be deeply grateful.

Irene Allen-Block