I dream of lying in long dry grass and looking at the clouds through the seedheads. I dream of walking off into a whiteout in a blizzard. I dream of being thigh-deep in peat on top of Kinder Scout struggling through wind and rain to get to the next tussock. I dream of being a monk going to sleep on a stone bed, with a single thin pillow in a cell where the moonlight falls across the cobbled floor, casting a small barred shadow. I dream of hot sunlight on my naked back as I trudge up the arid side of a mountain.
These are my favourite dreams.