Lots of wandering around dreams last night.
I was carting a lot of objects for a (I think) Neo-Pagan display in an indoor-outdoor museum. I don't recall if I was loaning my harp or some other object. But the display wasn't quite where we thought it was supposed to be, and where we were going to set up would be in the rain.
Something about a new house which was our old house. Or vise-versa.
The part I remember well was that I had followed Mark into a cave. I think we were at the zoo, but we might have been at some sort of park rented for seminars. The opening of the cave was in a hallway -- very Alice in Wonderland, and it just opened up off of the corridor. The cave was rocky, tubular, and about eight feet in diameter. A quick brook flowed through the cave (it sprung up where the cave met the corridor). The rough walls were damp. The light was dim, but not particularly dark.
Graying lumber spanned rocks set in the brook to make a path. Mark was farther along the bend in the tunnel. There were objects in the water along the way. Mark made a comment like it was a scavenger hunt. I remember one of the planks had fallen off the rocks and was in the water, and my feet got wet.
I came along a part of the path that had a lot of objects strewn around it. There was a book with a locked cover, a worked metal chaffing dish cover, a small key, and some other stuff. I wanted to look at the book, and the key looked like it would fit, but the largish square lock on the front of the book looked like it contained hidden blades in it and I didn't want to be poked. The shaft of the key looked like it was made out of a rolled up piece of paper with writing on it.
In the end, though, it looked like all this stuff belonged to someone else. The chaffing dish lid looked like it was there by mistake, so I brought it back out of the cave.
Some other dream things happened, and I returned to the cave entrance. It was flooded with spotlights, and Enya-like music played over a stereo system. Right next to it was a convention hall (it's as if this part of the dream was set in a Marriott or something). There was a standing cloth curtain with a big white paper sign with the words "Waiting Area" in big black Papyrus-typeface. I was tapping the lid and noticed it made an impressive gong sound.
A five-foot-something man was in charge of the display. He was bald on top. He wore dark slacks, a white opera shirt, and a dark wool vest with lighter threads making a raged basket-weave pattern running down in two wide stripes along his front. It turned out he had put all the stuff in the cave, and it was a part of some sort of New Age vision quest. He kept speaking in pronouncements, and said something about The Hero's Quest. I gave him his lid back.
Then there was some more wandering... this time in Astoria, and I rehashed the previous evening's conversation by taking some tap-dance lessons and then meeting my Fairy Godmother... and also being in a huge dance routine with Jerry and Kathy Oltion, who had developed the ability to freeze scenes, make everything fuzzy around the edges, and surround their hands with saturated color. All while dancing in time with the music.
Crazy dream. I like the book and key, and I'll have to figure out a way to use it in a story.