Two Nights, Same Dream, Campfire

Two nights in a row now nearly the only thing I can remember when I wake up is the jumble of images always ends with me in two different boots sitting up around a small campfire in a rocky depression. On the opposite side of the camp fire is a pair of large boulders, standing a dozen feet tall or more. I seem to be wearing a sort of knit cap.

The other thing from this morning was that I was looking in the mirror, and my head had been shaved, I looked almost exactly like my brother and dad. I haven't had a buzz cut since sometime in the 5th grade, over thirty years ago, but the feeling of air on my head and the pringle of short hair as I rubbed my hand over my head was exact. Only I didn't feel 11.