I am awakened by a sound outside my window. It’s 4 am. Off to investigate.
The sky is clear and brilliant with stars. I wrap a blanket around me, open the door to a whoosh of cold air, and venture out onto the deck. A shooting star! And another! And another! Annie, wake up! Wake up!
We sit together on the yellow butterfly chairs, cocooned in our comforters, our bare feet curled up under us. An owl hoots as the crescent moon emerges from the cypress trees that line the road behind us. A second owl, off to the north, responds with her own “Hooo hooo he-hooo”. Two soloists, echoing across the pasture, and in between the little frogs, still croaking, offering up the basso ostinato.
I see the source of my sleep’s disturbance – the horses like to nestle near our house. Such large creatures, yet so gentle. They come up even closer to visit us.
We linger a little longer, greedy for more shooting stars, but the night sky is fading. Time to drift back to our beds and to sleep. How delightful to slip under warm covers, to savor the night.
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