Betwixt and between the midnight hour and dawn, in that never-ending zone when sleep evades the weary soul, the night grows still and the crickets set down their bows, I found myself wide awake.
It is in these soulful hours that I found myself wandering the darkened rooms of this old house, hearing the faint fall of my footsteps as the floorboards creaked and groaned. It is in these wee hours that I often catch sight of the ethereal shadows of our wandering herd of deer and, perchance, a lone car, heading home from the graveyard shift or venturing out to an early morning flight – but this night, I was alone.
I don’t mind these occasional sleepless nights, though I know they can be lonely times for many. I still have my health and always a book to read or a post to write. I’m grateful for that. I know the time may come when occasional becomes always, but, for now, my late night hours are few. While I don’t mind the occasional sleepless night, I know the awakening day will be long and I will feel a heavy weariness by mid-afternoon. It is what it is.
So, I roamed the rooms then placed my book near a comfortable chair and lamp. I set a cup and saucer out and filled the teakettle, put a few errant kitchen items in their place, and walked to the wide door overlooking the deck. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see a crafty spider knitting her web. She worked her magic upon the air betwixt and between the eaves and the glass; knitting and purling, tatting and knotting her lacey snare. She paid me no mind. I let her go about her solitary task, amazed, once again, at the marvels of nature.
The teakettle whistled, breaking the lure of the web. I steeped my tea and sweetened it with a bit of local honey. Wrapped in a blanket, I watched the steam rise from my cup, then settled in to sip and ponder, read and write, betwixt and between the midnight hour and dawn.
Do you have sleepless nights? What do you do when sleep evades you?