Sleeping, shadow, sunlight
2001 08 18
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Sleeping, we spend a third of our lives (or so) doing it. It's something we take for granted, like we take breathing for granted. Most of us never think about it. It just sort of... happens.
I like sleeping, mainly for the dream part of sleeping, but I still enjoy that sleepy feeling that comes long before you hit the over-tired stage; that feeling that hits on cool winter nights when you get under the covers and feel them warm around you. There is, perhaps, no thing more secure than that; nothing more peacegiving.
There's some unspeakable charm about an afternoon nap, or sleeping where the breeze can grace your skin; to go to bed just before the rest of the world wakes, when the sky hints the million shades of grey and blue at you.
Despite being a night person, that is definitely one of my favourite times of day. Perhaps it's the unspoken promise of an unblemished sheet of notepaper, or the piece of fruit you haven't yet sliced the skin of. The day, it's still perfect at that hour; it is still perfect and promising and lovely.
I love the smell of days that begin hazey and dripped with fog and mist; when they're cool, though. I like the colours of the trees, and how everything is shrouded, blanketed, perhaps even shielded to keep it comfortable for us.
I've never liked the glaring sun; it seems to strip everything away, it seems to allow nothing for the poor creatures caught in its unforgiving heat and brightness. Toobright days seem almost to leave no room for anything else; no room for dreams to grow or bodies to move.