The Interior In The Spinney (Night of 12/12/2017)

Walking through hilly countryside - farming land - with someone. I can't remember who. A friend? My sister? It has the feel of the last day - or days - of a holiday. We are walking along a small path - to our right the countryside stretches out. I see a cluster of trees in the centre of a field. There is something about this that looks primordial - trees hunched over like the carapace of an insect. I explain to my dream-companion that this spinney ('a clump of trees in the middle of a field') must be explored. She expresses some fear at this idea - it is in the middle of a farmers field after all. I am initially concerned too but then I see other people heading into the spinney - a family outing, a couple on bikes.

This puts both our minds at rest.

Looking closely at the field, I see that it is not being used for crops - but nor does it seem to lie fallow either. A thin layer of green mud - like the residue on a dried out pool - covers the earth.

The path suddenly seems to take us straight into the trees.

'It's suddenly got dark very quick!' I say, looking above me at the towering trunks of pine trees - their branches blocking out all the light.

Suddenly we are in an interior of some kind - an interior inside the spinney. It looks like some vast log cabin - very exciting. There is a grandfather clock and numerous rooms. I turn to my dream-companion and start making plans for taking selfies.

In one room a teacher is speaking to a class of students, sat cross-legged on the floor.

It is a shame it is not quieter, I think. There are far too many people around.