Noisy Night

 Weather plays tricks.

Mother Nature on the war path.

Winter moving in before time.

Sound closed in.

Every little noise becomes gigantic.

Rain brings out the devil from the usually sane people.

All the noise kept interrupting my sleep. Curled up beneath the blanket to warm the chilled body I closed my eyes listening to the rain pelting down on the roof. The wind rattling the windows. I thought of my recently potted plants. Would they stand the gale. Had the roots begun to settle into the new soil. Prayed each of them stayed the distance of the force of the wind. Or were they being ripped from the pot to lay deserted on the ground. These were the last thoughts before sleep claimed me, again.

With the rain came the devils.

Devils who believed they were invincible. Strong. Beyond danger finding them. Only their enjoyment of the excitement of the chase brought to them. Car engines roared. Gears changed. Tyres skidded around the corners. Were they being chased. Playing chicken with the traffic lights. Did friends egg the driver into dangerous action. Had they been drinking. By the time the car reached my street the occupants were yelling encouragement out open windows. When the noise petered out sleep claimed me once again.

Later, I was woken by the truck brakes. The lights had turned red to stop their progress. Engines revved when the lights changed. Mange gear changes while the truck gathered speed to the next set of lights. Somewhere in the distance chimed in another sound before I drifted to another cat-nap.

The whistle of the train came next. The roaring sound when the train charged along the tracks going south. Or was it coming down the street. On closed in nights, whether by low clouded overcast skies, or fog in winter, you have this feeling of them coming down the street. So real. So disturbing when woken from a deep sleep. The heart pumps fast. Has the train come off of the rails. Taken a wrong turn. Not likely. But the fear is there for a short time. Until sleep come, again.

Morning come but the sun doesn't.

Rain is threatening.

Clouds block out the sun. The heat.

You curse the birds squabbling. Or singing. Why should they be so happy. This is still the middle of the night.

A lawn mower starts.

The grandmother clock chimes the hour.

You count.

Groan.

Another miserable day has arrived.

Eyes sleepy from all the noise during the night.

I crawl from my warm cocoon to face the chill. With foggy brain I try to plan what I can do.

Washing. Another dryer day.

Gardening. Well, the weeds will still be waiting for me another day.

Television. Nothing interesting.

Craft work. I shake my head. The fog doesn't clear.

Oh, well. I smile. Another day at the computer. I have a good excuse to be sitting around.

I ignore the phone. Don't want to have the story flow broken.