I often work my dreams into my books; and I had one the other night that ought to fit in somehow.
I dreamt I discovered a neighborhood in my home town that I never knew existed–lovely old houses, street shaded by overarching trees, beautifully paved streets; long, sweeping hills; and nobody else around. I rode my bike up and down the neighborhood, exploring it, wondering how I’d missed it when I’ve lived here my whole life.
One street led to the beach, and I got off my bike and enjoyed that for a while. People playing in the surf. Kids playing tag.
Exploring another street, I found it gave way to a vast green meadow, sparkling green. I parked my bike and walked out onto the field. There a lioness was waiting for me; she rose up from the grass. I don’t know why I wasn’t terrified, but dreams are like that sometimes. Instead of being afraid of the lioness, I shared a romp with her–chasing each other back and forth. The lioness leaped and capered like a kitten.
Then I woke up.
I think that encounter with the lioness is something that must have happened, or soon will happen, in Obann.