The Comfort of Autumn Rain

Wearily I climb into bed, too tired to sleep, too restless, too worn out. The boys stay up quite late and get up quite early. I cannot keep such hours. My constitution is not up to twenty-first century hecticity (like my new word?).

Even Sugar keeps their hours, sleeping in the daytime so she can play when they are at their most energetic late at night. I flop from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position, a cool spot on my pillowcase, a restful posture. Someone shuts my bedroom door which I prefer to keep open for air circulation.

At once, I can hear the rain pattering outside my window, rustling leaves and slaking the thirst of the brown grass below. Such a comforting sound. Why is that? Perhaps simply knowing I am inside where it is warm and dry. Perhaps it is the musical pattern of the drops as they hit different surfaces. Perhaps it simply drowns out all other distraction.

What ever the reason, the lullaby of chilly fall rain soon settles me into a comfortable sleep filled with odd and peculiar dreams. I never even hear the boys put Sugar to bed.