Sleeping up under the eaves

There was a day last week that when I came home from work and ate my supper, I didn’t feel like turning up the heat only to turn it down in an hour before bed—so I changed clothes and immediately climbed the ladder to my loft bed. You see, the higher I go, the warmer it gets under the eaves of the roof line.

I was warm and cozy up there reading or playing with my device.

 

This morning—after a garden workout the day before—I lazed about listening to the tap tap tap of rain drumming the roof as I lay abed. The room grew from darkness to dim. And, I knew I didn’t have to get up any time too soon, as my original plan had been to continue working in the raised beds I’d built the day before. No chance of that with the forecast.

There are noise machines that offer just what I was experiencing: relaxing rain, the occasional bird twitter, non-confrontational thunder, a low settling rumble as if clearing its throat, shaking out wrinkles in the meteorological universe. I could lay there in a state of semi-consciousness and plan/not plan what I was going to do today.