I have had this dream many times over the years. I remember the dream, but do not remember the contexts in which the dream appeared in my life.
I am sitting at the mouth of a concrete "harbor", which is simply a square concrete inlet or sidewalk very high above the surface of the sea. The sea can be seen in its blueness to the horizon. The air is warm. There are no clouds in the sky, but things seem just slightly yellowed or murky in the air, as if the cinematographer put nylons in front of the lens like they did in the film "Fiddler on the Roof." I neither enjoy the place or dislike it. I am merely there.
As I sit, a very large shark appears in the distance. It gets closer and closer. I am very near the edge of the "harbor" and the shark begins leaping high into the air, beginning at the edge of the harbor and jumping out of the water so his many teeth can be seen clearly above the height of the concrete. I sit, nonplussed and curious as the shark continues leaping, it's teeth gleaming and voice roaring. The shark must be 100 feet long or longer, for that is about the height of this sidewalk I'm on. Finally, it gets to my position and it leaps right on front of me. If I reached out, I could touch it. Only then can I see the sharks true virulence. Its teeth are massive and each like a white obsidian spear head. Its loud roars are deafening. It looks at me with a meaningful glare, it's cold eye turned directly toward me. I feel the warmth of its breath, and the spray of water from the ocean dances like tiny jewels in the sky around it in slow motion. I am still curious about the shark. As a vaguely interested scientist might, I wonder why it is jumping, why it would be compelled to threaten whomever it might in its efforts at getting so high out of the water. I do not feel personally threatened by it. Neither do I admire it.
Finally, it falls, disappearing momentarily from my view. It continues its leaps out of the water to the other end of the square "harbor" and swims out to sea.