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Welcome to Sleepy Shorts Short Stories for
Bedtime. This podcast is brought to you

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by I have a story to tell
you that will help take your mind off

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all of your worries and cares.
Just listen and relax, then drift peacefully

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into sleep. It's time to turn
off the lights and snuggle into your bed.

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Find your most comfortable position there.
Now take a few seconds to relax

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your mind. It's time to sleep. Time to rest and rejuvenate our minds

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and bodies. In order to prepare
our bodies for sleep, let's do a

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couple of muscle relaxation and breathing exercises. I want you to inhale for account

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of three, and while doing so, tighten all of your muscles and inhale

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one two, three, Hold your
breath, keep your muscles tense. Now

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exhale to account of six. While
you relax all of your muscles one two,

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three, four, five six,
feel your body sinking deeper into your

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bed. Let's do this one more
time. Take a deep three second breath

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as you tighten your muscles, hold
it now, relax and exhale to account

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of six. Let your body sink
even deeper into your bed. Now it's

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time for your sleepy short Let me
help you fall asleep. Relaxing in the

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hammock, the glow of an orange
sky spills through my bay window, alerting

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me that it was arriving at the
end of its shift. With little delay.

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The orange turns blue, then purple, then black, and then comes

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the magic of the night sky.
Twinkles of light spread out as far as

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I can see, following the rolling
fields behind my country home. They invite

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me to join in their majesty,
and I force my tired body to oblige

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their invitation. My farmhouse home is
a fair retail wonderland of natural awe and

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beauty. Even when Mother Nature has
turned off the lights. When the cool

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breath of the night settles over my
land, that's when I truly see her

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beauty come alive. Though the air
is cool, the ground is still warm

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from the day's beating sun. I
leave my shoes by the back door and

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allow my toes to soak in the
soft, plush comfort of grass and earth.

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This is when my senses come alive, and I'm suddenly connected to the

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natural world that surrounds me. In
the distance, my fields are alight with

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a blinking of a thousand tiny fireflies, all working diligently to find a comfortable

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place to rest their tired wings.
I follow my childhood curiosity out to their

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meeting ground. When I was a
girl, my father would hand me a

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jar with tiny holes poked through the
metal lid and asked me if I wanted

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to learn how to catch lightning in
a jar. Eagerly, I followed his

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lead until my jar was full of
tiny, blinking lights. Be careful,

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he would say, These little guys
are our friends. We need to care

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for them until they are ready to
show us their magic. Once both jars

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were full and the cloak of darkness
had settled over the fields for the evening,

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we would walk them to the darkest
part of our property. Gently,

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we would set the jars on the
ground, and together we would open them

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and release their light into the night
sky. Watching the lightning bugs fly away

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leaving a winding path of yellow light
was one of the most mesmerizing memories of

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my childhood. I make my way
further into the field, stepping as carefully

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as possible so as not to disturb
any unsuspecting creatures. The light of a

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firefly beams just a few inches in
front of my face. Unconsciously, I

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reach for the tiny creature, allowing
my fingertip to serve as her resting ground,

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even if only for a moment.
I watch intently as she crawls down

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the side of my finger and finds
her way to the warmth of my poll.

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Her tiny light blinks as if in
approval, before she crawls her way

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to the tip of my thumb.
Her little light blinks once more, as

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if to say goodbye, and then
she's gone, flying off into the evening

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sky. The fresh country air holds
me toward the stables, where horses Dancer

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and Daisy live in perfect harmony with
one another. I can hear their low

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brain. As I pass our pole
building, the one with a dangling tire's

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wing, I pause to grab hold
of the fraying rope that holds the drying

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tire just above the soft ground.
It is amazing to recall all of the

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memories that flood my mind each time
I pass this swing. My favorite,

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however, is the one of my
first love, pushing me as high as

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the swing would possibly go. Now
that first love snoozes on the couch in

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the house, slowly disappearing behind me. Sixteen years and not a day goes

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by, but I don't remember the
day we spent playing on the swing.

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I walk past my sleeping horses and
down the dirt path that leads to the

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open wild flower meadow. It reminds
me of a scene from the series Planet

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Earth. Various shades of purples and
blues pepper, the lush green foliage that

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grows from the rich earth beneath it. This is a sanctuary for the senses.

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The rhythmic chirping of grasshoppers and the
patient breeze of a country night are

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the only sounds for miles. The
tall grasses brush my feet as I approach

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a large handmade arch. Intricate flower
carvings bend and weave like ivy around the

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exterior of the arch. In the
center are two perfectly crafted wooden roses,

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their stems intimately wrapped around one another. I taken a deep breath and allow

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my mind to wander back to the
many times that I have walked under that

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arch. My head falls gently backward
and I open my eyes to the bright

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white of a half moon. It
softly kisses the tops of the surrounding birch

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trees and allows their branches to paint
black veins across its surface. Just a

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few paces beyond the arch lies my
hammock. It was carefully crafted by my

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grandmother as a birthday gift. With
it, she wrote a note reminding me

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that I should never allow my life
to take me too far away from nature.

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She instructed me to hang the hammock
within view of my home and the

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peaceful meadow where the crickets chirp until
morning. I hung the hammock the next

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day and have visited it often.
I take a deep breath and climb into

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its soft depths. Though it's been
a few years and the material has been

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stretched and worn, it holds me
like it always does, like a warm

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hug on a cool summer night.
This is my sanctuary, an escape from

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the world, and a reminder that
I need all that the earth has to

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offer me, especially her peace.
I direct my attention back to the sky

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and stare into the heart of the
moon. With just a little of its

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light, I see the depth of
the balloon that showers across the night sky.

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Its glow reminds me that there is
no such thing as eternal blackness.

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It's all in our perception. Everything
stops when I'm in the hammock, the

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world falls away, and I remind
myself that life is good right now in

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the moment. I come here for
this reminder often, and it has kept

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me grounded in the realization that life's
problems are only as big as we make

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them. I look up to the
Moon and imagine traveling to its surface.

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How tiny everything on Earth must seem
when you're standing a million miles away.

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How insignificant a small problem or a
bad day must seem. How vast and

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full of possibilities it must appear.
Instead. Of course, I would never

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truly want to travel to the Moon, not unless I could box up this

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small piece of heaven and take it
with me. I'm content with staring at

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its majesty as it floats across the
sky. My eyes grow heavy as I

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search the skies for one more gift. If I trace my finger from the

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North Star up to the center of
Orion's belt, then to the left,

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stopping just before Leo, I will
find the star named for my family.

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From there, I can spot Ursa
Minor and Ursa Major, and even the

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Gemini constellation. They remind me just
how connected we all are, not only

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here on Earth, but also in
the great unknown, I allow the hammock

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to rock me gently, lulling me
into a deep sense of calm and relaxation.

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A shooting star streaks effortlessly across the
night sky, adding to the gifts

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that nature offers me every single day. I allow myself to soak in its

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glory and give thanks for all it
has to offer, while swaying peacefully and

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my hammock. Good night. M
hm m m m mo m m m

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m m m m m more so
hm hm hm m m m m m

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m m m more m m m
m m m m m m m m

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m m m m m m m
m m m m m m m m

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m m m m m m m
m m m m m m m h

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m hm h m hm m m