It’s four in the morning.
Blackness outside the window, peppered by lightning streaking the sky, revealing skeleton trees and lone patches of snow.
Thunder rumbles incessantly in the distance, clearing its throat, mumbling of possible rain showers.
I dreamed restlessly as lightning and thunder negotiated in the dark of night.
In dreams Creativity wrote, wrote, wrote. In half-awake tossing and turnings, words rose like phantoms creating St. Patrick’s Day nattering, full-sprouted paragraphs arising like chattering ghosts, endless talk, talk, talk.
Finally, at 3:21, a magic hour, a witching hour, I tossed back the covers and arose, padding silently out into the living room, don’t wake Barry. The electrical pulsing of lightening filled our house in the woods, light, dark, light, dark.
Turned on lights; crept downstairs to start a fire in the wood stove. A million times in this lifetime: crumple newspaper, five pieces of cedar kindling, two smallish logs, one larger log, flick match against box, ignite paper. Burn, baby, burn. Close wood stove. Leave damper open. Wait on green couch in basement, silent, watching fire crackling and lightening pulsing, until the stove burns fierce and the motor whirs and now heat dances upward through the ducts warming the chilled house.
Upstairs now. Click on the gas stove, lighting burner. Heat water to boiling, peering into the teas. What kind? Something soft, healing, earthy. Feeling the edges of a cold, just swallowed Vitamin C, how about Breathe Easy? Haven’t sipped this brew in maybe two years. The paper teabag promotes: “Honey may be beneficial, especially in dry climates.” I spoon a teaspoon of organic Korean honey and stir, dissolving it. The teabag says brew 10-15 minutes and drink three cups daily. I wait eight minutes and sip. Ahhh…
Sometimes when we’re awake in the middle of the night we long for sleep like its our best friend. We fuss about how we’ll feel in morning’s light, or perhaps dawn’s rain. We want. Sleep. Now.
I feel perfectly content in this wakefulness.
Lightening and thunder and the hum of the wood stove motor fills the silent house, along with the click of the keyboard, click, click, click.
More than enough.
Sleep well, world. Let your dreams lead you in wakefulness and slumber…
Post Script in daylight:
Lyrics to Bachman-Turner Overdrive which Barry and I listened to over coffee at 7:10 this morning:
I’d like you to know at four in the morning
Things are coming mine
All I’ve seen, all I’ve done
And those I hope to find
I’d like to remind you at four in the morning
My world is very still
The air is fresh under diamond skies
Makes me glad to be alive
Kathy’s note: The diamond skies were twinkling with lightning. We didn’t get a drop of rain from the electrical storm. Weather forecast today: 70 degrees. (21.1 Celsius.) Hard to imagine it’s still mid-March.