Dreaming of bears…

Another dream. One day I’ll find myself a decent dream analyst and it will all make sense…

Dreaming of bears

There is snow, so much snow, glittering in the fading light. I walk through the trees, deeper into the woods, and listen to the quiet. Not a sound, nothing moves, until… there is a child, on the path, riding a rather old fashioned bike. He stops and says something, but I can’t hear him. There is still no sound in my dream, not a whisper. He realises I don’t hear, and he points, towards the clearing I know holds a pond. I look between the trees, trying to see what he points to, and stumble further down the path. I look over my shoulder, but he is gone. I am alone again.

I resume my walk towards the pond, watching my footing carefully as if I know I should not break a stick, rustle a leaf. As I reach the clearing I realise the snow is thicker here, even though the branches should have protected the ground. The edges of the pond are banked with snow, and I see footprints. I follow the tracks with my eyes and see a man crouched at the tiny wooden footbridge that crosses the narrowest part of the pond. I hesitate now, a little afraid of approaching him, this stranger who seems to be lying in wait.

He must hear me, for he stands and turns, and I realised he is not a man, but a bear. He wears the clothing of a man, though, jeans, a yellow t-shirt with a picture of a six cubes on it. I try to read the slogan but I’m still too far away. I look into his face and see he is laughing, and I turn and run…

I am sitting on a log, a fallen tree alongside the path, covered in snow. I wonder why I’m not cold and wet, but can’t see a reason. I’m examining my gloves, grey and woolly, when a hand takes mine. My heart gives a leap, and I lean into the warm body next to me, feeling at peace. I know he lives here, and I know I can stay with him if I choose. I’ve wanted him for so long; I’ve wished for him and longed for him for what seems like years.

He stands in front of me and strokes my hair, as I lean my forehead against his waist. I feel vibrations through his body and I know he is trying not to laugh… I raise my eyes and see his t-shirt, yellow with six cubes… and the slogan reads, ‘Pandora didn’t just have one.’

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