Two vivid animal dreams over the past few nights. In one, I was to ride around a meadow on a horse, but get back inside before the wolf attacked. The horse’s back was very vivid indeed. On one circuit as I was at the far end of the meadow I looked up to see a she-wolf with her cubs and felt terror because I knew she would fight to protect them. Then I realised that the cubs were dead, that she had killed her cubs.
Last night I dreamt of a bag of mud and tadpoles that I emptied out in a little pond, but a brightly coloured fish darted out and swallowed the largest tadpole. The tadpole was too big for the fish and its head was sticking out of the fish’s mouth, and I urged it to just swim out, but it didn’t.
Both dreams felt meaningful in the way that dreams sometimes do, and I’m sure if I think hard enough I can devise something profound out of them.
After my writing yesterday – about 1/6 of the story left – I went to the home of the Elf and the Tea Lady, where GF had gone earlier for lunch. We had tea, admired their building which has two infinity pools on the 55th floor, felt slightly envious but agreed that our flat is nicer on the inside, and then all went out for dinner. Despite the air of a woodland creature that subsists on dew on flower petals, the Elf is as keen on the occasional very meaty meal as I am, so we had a delightfully carnivorous time.