The tornado sirens went off just before midnight last night, and it took me some time to get to sleep. You'd think I'd have had tornado dreams or tsunami nightmares, but instead I dreamed I was riding out in the country with my aunt and we saw that some cattle had escaped. When I went up to knock on the door of the closest farmhouse, my aunt turned into a friend with a toddler. By the time we'd offered to help lead the cattle back in, my friend with the toddler had turned into my mother--she knew exactly where to stand and what to say to get the cattle to line up. I fumbled with a latch on the gate, then decided it would be more efficient to just see if I could find the young bull who was the ringleader. He was down the road. As I starting walking toward him in the mud, I realized someone had landed an airplane on the road, and the bull had boarded it. I was able to calmly lead him down the main aisle and back to the farmhouse. He had a sore spot on his nose where someone had hit him, and I felt sorry for him even as part of me knew he'd get slaughtered soon. He went through the gate quietly. Then I realized the other cattle were people--then I realized those people were my friends--and then we were trying to catch up about poetry and conferences and word games before I finally figured out how to latch the gate.
What's the catch? (see latch)? Did all of you catch up? Did all of you catch fire (with inspiration(like the kingfishers and did your dragonflies draw flame as in Hopkins' Inversnaid))? How was the plains trip?