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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. A cold winter

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night. Outside, the wind is
blowing through the trees, causing some of

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the icicles to fall from the edge
of the cabin roof. The wind is

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not blowing too hard, just enough
to be heard over the crackling fire in

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the fireplace. The light in the
cabin is provided by the fireplace and the

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five candles nestled inside the antler chandelier
in the center of the room. The

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fire provides all the warmth needed with
its crackling and popping as the flames turn

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the wood to act. Our little
cabin sits about halfway up the slope of

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a small mountain. We bought it
five years ago and try to find every

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possible reason to spend weekends here in
the summer. It looks out over a

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green landscape as far as you can
see. There is a lake at the

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bottom of the mountain, and it
reflects the sun's warm rays at sunset.

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Sitting on the porch during that season
is a wonderful time. The birds chirp

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and flit about, playing high in
the branches of the forest. Occasionally there

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will be a few deer that wander
through the space, and we sit and

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watch them quietly, trying not to
spook them. We want them to feel

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comfortable around us. During the fall
season, the mountain explodes with color as

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the trees begin to turn. The
reds, yellows, and oranges signal the

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approaching winter. We'll see fewer deer
at this time, because they have already

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started moving lower down the mountain.
The cabin is located right under a flyway,

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so we witnessed hundreds of geese and
ducks heading south for the winter.

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Their beautiful V shaped formations stretched out
for miles across the sky while the sun

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shone. From our vantage point,
we were able to watch them drop down

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to the lake at the end of
the day, looking to get a good

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night's rest before continuing on their journey. The next morning, thousands of other

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birds headed south that have no use
for formation flying. Just give them a

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good flock of friends to fly with, and they are as happy as can

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be. I sometimes think of geese
and ducks as military flyers turning up their

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bills at the flock, flyers who
don't show the discipline and training necessary for

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formation flying. For birds who head
south, whether it be within a formation

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or a flock. It seems like
it must be more enjoyable when traveling with

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friends and family. Now it's winter, the ground is covered in snow.

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The deer left the area long ago, and the high flying birds won't be

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seen again for three months when they
once again head the other direction. The

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only birds we see now are the
hardy ones, some of which are also

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the most colorful. Cardinals and blue
jays stick around a little. Snow never

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scared them, and when they find
the tins we put out with nuts and

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seeds, they are quite happy to
visit with these strange animals who walk around

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on two legs. In the distance, I can hear the hoot of the

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great gray owl. There is only
one living on the mountain that we know

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of, and he is the king
of the night. It is imagined that

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his hoot strikes fear into the souls
of every small animal and rodent in the

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area. We see him occasionally,
and he does not appear to be starving.

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The cabin is quiet this evening.
I am alone, as my better

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half hasn't arrived yet. I came
up this afternoon, not wanting to drive

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up the muddy and snowy road in
the dark but that's okay. It's given

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me some time with my favorite author. There's something magical about reading an old

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book near a warm fireplace by the
light of the candles above. Of course,

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the cabin has electricity at its working
just fine, but this felt like

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the perfect night to go old school
and skip the modern conveniences. As I

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turn each page of the book,
I catch the faint smell of the aged

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yellowing paper. I found this book
in a used bookstore a few days ago,

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and I knew it would be a
fine companion on this weekend trip.

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Pulling the blanket a little tighter around
my shoulders, I sink a bit deeper

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into the overstuffed chair and into the
story. The soft glow of candle flame

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dances across the page as I absorbed
the words written so long ago by an

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author who passed from this world before
my mother was even born. I've heard

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it said that this is one of
the best ways to be remembered after leaving

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this world. If your words carry
any meaning for those who read them,

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you will be remembered long after you
cease to write them. Your words have

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the power to reach out across the
vast distance of time and touch many hearts

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and souls. Such is the case
with this book. I now read.

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The words flowing before my eyes,
sometimes bring tears, at times a smile

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or even a quiet laugh. With
the turn of each page, a new

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insight into the mind of an author
long gone forms in my mind. What

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was her daily life like? Did
she live in a small, one room

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cabin such as this? From her
words, it is quite possible that she

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did. As I read on,
the heaviness of my eyelids comes upon me

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quickly and quietly. I only make
it through another twenty pages. When my

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eyes close and my head sinks back
against the headrest of the recliner. I

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can hear soft music in my head
as I begin to dream of the summer

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we first bought this cabin. I
dream of the time I spent walking through

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the flowers in the meadow just down
the hill. The bees and the butterflies

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darted out of the way as I
stepped easily through the tall grass, and

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after I had passed, they went
back to whatever task they'd been doing.

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I felt a small tinge of guilt
about causing them to have to pause their

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labors so I could pass. They
never seemed to mind, though, The

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sun shone brightly that day, with
just a few wispy clouds drifting across the

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sky. I heard a small shriek
and looked up to see a red tailed

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hawk patrolling the skies. Like the
owl, this bird kept the rodent population

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in check with his razor sharp vision. He wheeled across the sky, flying

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further and further down the mountain toward
the lake. Hunting is probably much better

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along the water, I could feel
the soft breeze sweep across the meadow as

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the scent of the wild flowers reached
me. The lupins and the cone flowers

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were in competition with their vibrant violets, oranges, and rads. I could

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feel the tall grass caressing me,
blown by the breeze as it clung to

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my legs. It had just rained, so the moist ground socked at my

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boots as I walked along. At
the edge of the meadow, the remnants

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of a fallen tree beckoned to me, so I sat down with a deep

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breath. I was able to detect
the scent of pine in the air.

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It brought back memories of family vacations
to the mountains when I was a little

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girl. My mom and sister never
really cared for the outdoors, but I

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couldn't get enough of it. We'd
stay in a cabin much like this one,

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and whenever Daddy asked who wanted to
go for a hike, I was

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always the first to jump up.
It was one of the few times I

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had him all to myself. Back
to the present and in and out of

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dreams. I keep my eyes closed, but I begin to hear a sound

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that is unfamiliar. It sounds like
a large animal clumping through the meadow,

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and I expect to open my eyes
and see a large deer moving through,

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but there is nothing. I look
across the meadow and see nothing, but

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the sound is still there. Just
as I am about to stand up and

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get a better look, I feel
something brush across my forehead. I reach

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up to wipe it away. It
feels like a bug of some sort as

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landed at my hairline and is walking
down my face. I feel nothing as

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I touch my face, but there
it is again, this time brushing between

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my brows. I swipe again with
my hand, and this time my fingers

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make contact with something quite solid,
and it jolts me awake. I open

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my sleepy eyes just as my sweetie
kisses the tip of my nose. Did

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I wake you? Oh, it's
you, I say, with a sleepy

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smile. You can wake me any
time you want. Good Night, Sa s BO