Last night it was that I picked this up and unfurled and refolded it again and again. It was white in the dream.
The night before - I fully acknowledge that this is grandiose, but when if not in dreams can we be grandiose, eh? - I dreamed that I discovered a new kind of falcon.
Don't laugh.
It was a peacock falcon and it was beautiful.
I willed myself into dreaming a gannet's plunge in the early hours of the morning.
I dreamed I protected sundry kittens and the puppies of lost friends from eagles.
I dreamed I was on my back, again, shirt damp from the spongy ground that surrounds the foundation of L. M. Montgomery's house, after I had retreated from the dives this bird's mother took at my head.
2 comments:
Oh my, I am so glad I found your blog. You are a wonderful writer, and I think the peacock falcon sounds lovely!
Thanks so much, Annie!
And I'm glad there are at least two of us who are in favor of the existence of peacock falcons.
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