Rainy days: Are they good or bad? — A 30 Minute Life

A heard of wildebeest was thundering over my head. Luckily I had found shelter under an overhanging rock. Looking around, I saw a few small bones, some scratched lines on the wall, and knew I was not the first to escape under this stone. The smell of these animals was surrounding me and I wondered would they ever stop, but I was feeling so tired, I suppose the adrenaline rush of escaping had overwhelmed me. I just needed to sleep.

But this is all wrong, I felt in my slumber. How could I have been in this place, when I live on an island, which has mainly small animals, except for cattle and horses. Then I realise I was not sheltering on some African savannah, but hearing the rain, thundering on the roof. The feeling of the duvet around me, and the soft comfort of my pillow. I am safe, inside, and warm. The imagination is powerful, creating magical stories, from the smallest suggestion.

As I slowly woke, bringing myself back into my real world, I wondered how I could use this dream. I am sure Jung or Freud would have some idea’s about why my fertile brain, nurtured this vivid movie. Was I overwhelmed, with a tidal wave of activity, pushing me to shelter. To hide away until the danger passes? Escaping later, like the previous inhabitants of this small cave? I wondered…