yoga studio

Several factors contributed to my sleepless night;  the outbreak of a whatsapp war, the drinking of a late evening cognac at Atmos, a storm breaking from the North, the cats hunting.  

In bed I listened to a couple of nightingales courting and watched the flash of a distant storm, imagined where it was breaking and waited until it came closer.  The rain came and silenced the birds, the thunder and lightening moved closer until they were around us.  I made a large pot of tea at 2 a.m to counter the cognac effects, ate a chocolatine to counter my nighttime hunger and watched the storm out.  

Back in bed I tried to sleep but the cat made a song and dance about it's prey, the bones of which it cracked through on the bedroom rug beside me.  The thunder distanced itself, the nightingales racked up their song and the cat munched.   

I must have fallen asleep because I woke to different birdsong.  It was raining and there was a rat's head on the rug beside the bed. 

I dragged myself to the Porte d'Amont and climbed the spiral staircase to the attic way above the café.  For an hour I was in a Yin bubble of stretches and breathing which calmed my tattered mind and did some good, no doubt, to my under-slept body.