In the Still of the Night

It is quiet in the house. There is no one at home but me. I've spent the day doing good deeds for others, getting home around 10:30 p.m.. I've bought gifts for one set of children and my grand-daughter and my spouse. I still have one son to go and a birthday gift for the other. He was born on Dec 30th, an annoyance to both of us. And I have to get my sister something special. She shopped with me tonight.

But now, the house is quiet and only the clicking of my keyboard can be heard. Rain has fallen all day and it is a small, cold drizzle at the moment. The promised snow storm has not appeared but there are a few flurries here and there. I suppose we should be thankful but I do love snow. We Southern Belles view it as a special treat designed just for us.

I've not been writing for several days now. I've been restless and unable to forment a thought. So, here I sit, in the stillness of the midnight trying to convey what I am thinking. There is something about midnight that I really love. I tend to be a night owl and this is one of my favorite times. The world has all drifted off on whatever dreams they dream. The racous glare of the day has slipped into a quiet darkness that I can wrap about my shoulders like a velvet cloak and stroll along silent streets that echo the sound of my heels. Or I can simply sit here, in my dimly lit study and write about the cushion of darkness that buffers me from the harsh reality of the daylight.

Perhaps that is what I really like about the midnight hour. All the troubles of the day, the trials and tribulations of dealing with people or just the trauma of survival are somehow lessened in the down-filled darkness where the gentle twinkle of stars and a silver orb lull one into a sense of peace.

Dreams are dreamt at night because the intrusion of reality is weakened at night and the mind can race along paths never opened in the light of day. God is closer at night. I think it is why more people die at night. It's true, you know, they do. Ask the hospitals. I don't believe they are giving up because the darkenss overwhelms them. I think their bodies struggle in the light of day to survive but with the coming of midnight, they find that, in the stillnes of the night, is a sense of peace that becomes a stronger draw than survival.

I'm going to bed soon and dream some dream that will be driven back by the rising of the sun. Another day to survive until the still of the night returns.