Insomnia

As I sit and type its 3.30am in the morning.  


I went to bed at just before midnight and lay there wide awake until now.  


I tried counting sheep but lost count several times.


I counted the cracks in the ceiling but that just made me want to plan to decorate.


I counted the noises I heard but then got paranoid that someone was outside.


I counted Chris's breathing and then got annoyed she was asleep and not I.


I gave up, got up and made myself a mug of drinking chocolate.


Its a strange world, the dead of night.  So dark, still and moody, silent but also full of noises.  


Silent while everyone is tucked up sound asleep in bed, no traffic, no conversations, no phones ringing, no TV or radios, no shouting, giggling children. No bright and dazzling daytime cacophony of activity.


Then again the night is noisy in its own unique way. The house creaking and groaning when the central heating boiler fires up and pipes ting ting ting as they expand or the steady tick tock, tick tock, tick tock of the mantle piece clock as it beats out its rhythmic time keeping.  The occasional mumble as a family member dreams, of what, we may never know or want to.  The drip, drip, drip of the gutters full to the brim with the rainfall outside that in itself gently roars in the background.   Then, occasionally, the whir of the freezer compressor joins in as if not to be left out.  All of this punctuated now and then by a very faint, far far away baritone bark of a distant dog somewhere else.


Little wander sleep evades me.  


But oh the peace and tranquillity of this hour, just me, myself and I.   Listening to the night's symphony. 






At least until the alarm clock goes off that is.