Rosetinted

I have just woken up from a dream, we (I have no idea who we were) had just partaken in socially distanced outdoor japes. In my dream it felt as light and as normal as the time I vaguely remember; before humankind were all set upon each other with our opinions of how best to live through a pandemic. At the end of our outdoor japes I was feeling happy and free (why are feelings in dreams the most vivid part of the experience?) and I thought I would finish our time with a well-rehearsed hand spring. In real life I can just about execute a cartwheel with a front-facing landing but these are dreams OK. So, I limber up (even in my dreams I am middle-aged) I take a big run, I place one hand, than the other on the grass as I prepare to spin my body overhead and land gracefully.... Instead, I run, place the hands down at the point of where I will spin, collapse and crumple like a ball of soggy paper. The 'we' (I still do not recognise their faces) say encouraging things. I try again. I