Across the pond

Had finished the last blog and was in the middle of writing an email9 to a friend, when Holly came in.

It is now a very grey dawn. No more snow in the night, but there is enough left on Stonebarrow  hill it give Charmouth  the look af a winter wonderland.

She wanted to know if Summer was with me.

Apparently Holly had woken at 2 AM. Gone to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and found summer there.

She ran to our room to tell us. Janet woke up  immediately and was so pleased she jumped out of bed and did a little jig.

I just turned over.

But she had gone missing again.

Holly said maybe she had been in the house all the time, because when she found her last night she was warm not cold. And this time she could not have run out because all the doors were firmly closed. While we were talking Summer walked in.

Not at  all frightened. She walked around exploring, around the doxes of old files and into the bathroom.

Where she went is a mystery we will probably never solve.

As we may never really solve the mystery of dreams.

I now know for a fact that, what I thought was a vivid dream fragment of Holly at the bedroom door announcing Summer’s return, was most definitely hard reality.

In my main dream last night I was in a Bloomsbury square, either Bedford or Fitzroy. I had a clear vivid image of it, and also of my former colleague from The Times in 1970, Hugh Stephenson. He was asking for £38, which was my share of the lunch bill.

And was getting impatient because I was taking so long to extract the notes from my wallet and the coins from my purse.

Finally, he told me not to bother. And disappeared through a foot-wide gap between two tall buildings, shouting:

‘See you at the river’

It was as real as reality.

But I have been in Charmouth all night.

And now, at 8.20 AM, half a bright red sun has broken through the cloud above Chesil beach. There is a band of dark grey cloud above it. And above that a strip of pink.

A pink Christmas Eve, and the Pope is going to do Thought for the day for the first time ever.

Or is that tomorrow?

Time for breakfast.