Dreams of Lions and Strolls Along Wild Deserted Moors April 14, 2011Posted by Lauren Cooke in Dreams, Wordy Business.
Tags: dream diary, Dreams, lions
I have been dreaming vividly again recently. I wake in the morning exhilarated from the adventures of the night before, and from the wild roads I have wandered.
Last night I dreamt of lions. I dreamt of wandering along a twisted bulging tarmac street that cleaved its way through the barren expanse of a distant and unfamiliar moorland. In the distance birds circled and storm clouds gathered, and there was a scent of rain lingering in the air. Then, sprawled across a patch of bristly moor grass, I saw the pride. Four grown lions, snoozing and scrabbling in the last vestiges of sun, tossing their thick manes and pouncing at little blackbirds and plump pheasants.
Still we walked though, climbing the mutated and ravaged tarmac up into the thinner higher air, fast enough to be left puffing for breath. Unexpected, the lion reached us, its tawny hair rough and shedding. It batted playfully at our legs, darted forwards just to rush away again, like a cat playing with a mouse. We ran in turn, falling, grazing our knees on the hard floor, grasping tufts of harsh reeds and scrabbling at gravel to pull ourselves back up, to keep running, to stay one breathless step ahead.
I still don’t know whether we survived.
[Image source: here]