2010-02-07 - 3:01 p.m.
I am driving up a mountain, when the way splits. Up is a road too impossibly thin to fit a car, but I get the feeling others are doing it and I don't know how. I think Catherine was there, and she goes up. I walk along the low path (in the way of dreams simply no longer in the car) and come quickly to a kind of covered path. To walk along are a series of big boulders, overhead, giving just barely enough room, is a shelf or dirt cutout, I can't remember. As I crouch and leap along from boulder to boulder, I notice to my right, between myself and the long fall over the cliff's edge, are a series of spiders. Boulders and spiders again. These spiders are small and beautiful. Their legs are much longer and more tentacle like than any real spider. Their bodies are flat and pill-shaped, yellow with thin black cross-hairs. They furl and unfurl their long legs from their webs, building little mounds of dirt beneath the web. God knows why, in the dream I think maybe just more earth between the boulders upon which they can expand their webs.
At the end of the boulder tunnel there is a kind of stage made out of snow. There are two animals there, I can't remember the one off to the side, but on the stage is a lion. These are also made out of snow, yet alive. I'm scared out of my wits as the lion tries to bite me, but then it occurs to me that they are still made of snow. As the lion, still on the stage, tries to bite, I lean in and take a bite out of his face instead. It breaks away like any loosely packed snow. I continue to eat, burying my face and taking huge bites as the cold makes my teeth scream with pain and an ice-cream-headeache attacks my head. When I'm done the lion's face is gone, and he now stands motionless, just a snow-sculpture waiting to melt.
