{gratitude: 11.3}

In our little house, when it gets colder than the 40’s at night, we reluctantly turn on the heat. We hold off on this decision as long as we can.

When we lived in the UK, we had oil heaters. They… ticked and hummed, as the oil heated and boiled in its metal housing. What forced air with its blowers and fans and filters and oil heaters, with their ticking and humming, have in common is that they’re both noise. Even when they’re really purpose-built for quiet, they’re never silent. And so I lie in bed, listening to them. It happens the first few weeks of every autumn.

Another side effect of the isolation/lockdown period of this pandemic is that I have stopped sleeping soundly. This is a common stress response for many, and it’s taking a long time to get that sleep-ability back.

I miss sleep. And I, probably like you, am deeply, deeply grateful when it comes.

nocturne

Sleep is such a silent word –
(Speak softly! – Shh! Go slow!)
The ‘S’ is curled up tightly
The E’s snuggled in a row.
Sleep seduces us to snooze;
Leggy ‘L’ lists toward the ‘p’
Somnolent upon the sofa –
Hush, and let me get some zzz’s.