It was a sunny midday, with the sun filtering through trees. I was at what seemed like a small farm carved out of the woods, its clearing only maybe an acre in area; the land sloped down slightly toward the north, and a driveway ran north-south, exiting to the north, presumably. There was maybe a main house to the west of the driveway, while on the east side of the driveway near its southern end were two little gambrel sheds, only maybe 6’x6′ each, sitting next to one another east-west with their gables aligned, and they were connected by a passageway. The first one, the one entered from outside, had some stuff in it, probably gardening tools. The second one, however, was free of contents and had a simple painted plywood interior finish, but built into it were various boxy protrusions making sitting spots and so on. The base paint on the plywood was white, but there was a new still-wet light-pink coat over that. Outside (to the south, between the sheds and the woods, or just into the front layer of woods where the trees were widely spaced), there were ducklings, I think (again with the ducklings, see previous post) and my friends and I amused ourselves by imitated the running motion of one of them whom we were acquainted with (who had a specific name like maybe Philippe) by running in quick short steps down the driveway, along with Philippe.

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