Okay, this one takes some time to explain. It was last night.
I dreamed I was picking sloes at the roadside. It was on a hill near to where I grew up, only the road was a road near where I live now (if that makes any sense). There was snow on the ground and you couldn't make out where the road ended and the verge began.
A motorcyclist coming up the hill pulled up and asked me something, but I couldn't hear what he said because of his helmet.
I walked across to him and he took off his helmet, then we both looked up towards the top of the hill. There was a little flat-back truck towing a caravan coming down, and a big articulated lorry with an additional trailer was pulling out to overtake him - but he wouldn't be able to complete the manoeuvre without running us down.
The lorry swerved onto the verge, then turned back the other way and I feared it was going to topple over on top of us; but it didn't. It collided with the other truck and both venhicles went comersaulting down the hill. One went into a ditch, and the driver climbed out of the wrecked cab unhurt. The other seemed to go into a barn.
I ran to the barn to check the other driver was OK. There was a crowd of people and somebody was asking if anybody had a GPS to get the exact location to give to the emergency services.
Then I was inside the barn, and there was a tractor and several large trailers, but no wrecked truck. I came out of the barn, and saw it was part of the yard of a famous horse rider. No snow now - spring grass. And somebody leading a foal in-hand. We exchanged a few words about how unhappy the owner would be about the truck crashing into her yard. The foal looked grotesque and mis-shapen.
That was the end of the dream.
HUH???
Custom Search
