I dream fairly often. They’re usually somewhat incomprehensible and rarely seem to have any impact on my daily life. Standard dream fare.

There are a few recurring themes, though, that I find interesting:

The first is the setting– any dream I have that isn’t confined to a single room or building tends to be set somewhere in the Florida brush. Scrubby pine trees, sandy soil, palmetto bushes, and dirt tracks. The roads are always long and straight and intersect at right angles. Traffic is minimal and the sky is clear. Usually any buildings involved are set far away from anything else, such that any travel I do between them requires a lot of time spent on those roads. They’re never paved, these roads. It always seems to be a slow incursion into nature by a few intrepid humans where the rest of civilization has yet to follow.

Generally, while traveling these roads, I’m apprehensive. Not scared, exactly, but aware that coyotes, pumas, or bears might be out there. A handful of times, I’ve seen tracks on the road. One dream, a few nights ago, had raptors in a field off to one side.

There’s always a feeling of emptiness. My family is there, in some configuration of grandparents or parents or close childhood friends, but we seem to be the only people for miles around.

There’s nothing to this post, really. Just that those coyote tracks from the other night have stayed with me and something about that echoing, empty feeling is actually appealing. Maybe I’ve just been in the city too long.

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Frigga devotee, Dedicant of Ar nDraiocht Fein

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