All is not quiet in the night

NOTE: Some writings I had done in earlier years, and shared on a smaller scale, have been requested to be posted on my blog. So I am going to do a bit of older posting, the time scale will seem off of some, so I want to be clear the yesterday mentioned here was many yesterdays ago. 
 
If someone had asked me yesterday if my house is silent while we all slumber, I would have answered yes without batting an eye.  If that same question were posed today, I would have to say "NO!"

I awoke at 3:45 and found myself unable to get back to sleep. Truthfully I didn't work too hard at going back to sleep since I have to take an extended nap this afternoon in preparation for an overnight shift at work (those are SO hard for me!) this evening.  I got up to check on the boys and marveled, as I have since the day they were born, at the relaxed and worry-free beauty in their faces as they sleep.  Even my often truculent teen has the soft, sweet face of the infant I sang to in the middle of the night nearly 14 years ago.  Nick wasn't snoring, but had a soft trilling in his sleep breathing. I stand there in the doorway to his room and will myself not to go in and stroke his sleeping brow, I marvel at the depth of his sleep and how I used to creep noiselessly for fear of 'waking the baby' and now it takes a brass band to rouse him from his slumber.  Amazing what can happen in what seems to be no more time than the blink of an eye.

Across the hall in Jackson's room I found Bailey, our 90 lb. yellow lab, with his head on the pillow and snuggled under the covers with Jackson.  There is a boy and his dog combination that was divined in heaven and is being lived out on earth.   Bailey falls into an exceptionally deep sleep and has an adorable snore.  He was not even the slightest bit disturbed by my opening the door and the shaft of golden light that spilled in from the hall, directly onto him.  Jackson slept soundly as I stood there and watched him for a few moments.  Sleeping so peacefully and yet looking like a crime scene chalk outline artist would be stopping by any moment to record the odd position his body had fallen into.  Jackson goes and goes and goes and when he finally lays down at night, it almost appears as though he has been flung on the bed--not at all in the curled up, prepared to rest, purposeful position that I, Carter or Nick utilize. Jackson appears almost to be in motion, even in sleep.  Other than having one arm flung over his beloved and faithful Bailey, he appears to be utterly unaware of anything as he sleeps.  

Downstairs I go, avoiding that 4th step that tends to squeak and check on the animals. Our conure, Ziggy, sleeps on his back in a soft bird hut and he randomly chirps out, even in his sleep. The cockatiels remind me of Sesame Street's yellow feathered resident--a whiffling snore shared by the two of them, huddled together on the lowest perch.  The finches are in their little hut, and I can hear the rustle of their feathers as I stand beside their cage in silence...aware even of my breathing as I try to listen to the sounds of the house.  

Down the main hall I hear scritching and scratching--one of the bunnies is up and moving their bedding around. I find Mr. Bunny fast asleep, I have to look and be certain I see his belly rising and falling in the cadence of breathing to be sure he's not expired in the night-so still and so motionless in his cage.  Mrs. Bunny and her daughter, Butterscotch, who share a multi-story dwelling are pressed tightly together on the lowest level and are looking at me with large, glossy eyes, but also motionless.  The Goose's Sister is up and about, clearly getting a start on what is going to be a busy, busy day for this bunny.  She is moving her bed, food dish and toys all over her cage. She likes to redecorate more frequently than the others, but I had never realized she was up at night...I think we need to change her name to Martha!  And finally, McGregor Superior BunBun. He is a helicopter eared blue-eyed white that only has true lop ears when he is fast asleep--and he is curled into a loose ball, ears flopped completely down, in his grass mat bed and apparently in a dream where there is great activity, his front paws are moving, moving, moving--I hope it is a happy dream. 

Around the corner are Mackenzie Marie and Trixie Belle in their crates.  Not quite 20 lbs of Shih Tzu combined, the two of them are asleep, appearing to be tiny balls of knitting yarn atop dog beds.  Mackenzie, ever the playful, pops her head up and cocks it to the side as if to ask if it is time to go out. Deciding that my motionless response does not equate to it being truly morning yet, she shuts her eyes and returns to doggy dreamland.  Trixie never bats an eye as I watch, but continues to snore in the same rhythm and pitch that I would swear was my own mother if I closed my eyes!

Back down the hall I pass through the kitchen...I can hear the hum of the refrigerator and nearly jump out of my skin when a new load of ice dumps into the door dispenser--I had never heard that before even though it makes ice all the live long day, but in the night I am acutely aware.  The downstairs furnace clicks on and I can actually hear the flames as it fires up, I open the furnace room door and peek in.  I had never paid any attention to the dancing flames before, never realized they actually make a sound as they heat our home.  

After listening to the snuffles and whiffs off the downstairs, I crept back into my bedroom and found that Riley, our 96 lb. black lab, has gotten up off his giant round bed and instead has taken up residence on my side of the bed, snuggled up to Carter.  He looks at me as if to say "Oh please don't make me move, I am sooooo comfortable." and almost as though they are colluding, Carter moves his arm to cover Riley in a sleep hug.  I wonder if Carter realizes it is the dog he has drawn closer to, and not me.  A slight smile plays on Carter's face and he makes the little sounds I've learned to utterly tune out while sleeping, but am absolutely aware of as I stand and watch from the doorway.  

Heading into my office to turn on the laptop and check emails and such I am aware of the sounds on the street--the crunching sound of the tires from the paper delivery person as he rounds the cul-de-sac and the quiet 'thump' of the paper as it hits the driveway.  I realize that we left a window open in the office and go to shut it, but think better of it and listen to all the things I've never noticed. I hear traffic from the main road a few miles out, I hear the breeze rustling the tender new leaves on the corkscrew willow.  Even the hum of my 'silent' laptop seems amplified in the night.  

It is though I am in on a secret, hearing all these marvelous soft sounds, and it makes me think I won't try very hard to go back to sleep in future nights when my body doesn't realize there are still a few hours of sleep to be had.  I believe I will wake and sit in the upper hall and listen to the symphony of sleep.