That sound of settling into the sheets and the covers has to be one of the best things in the world. Sleep is a mercy. You can feel it coming on, like being swept up in something.
– Marilynne Robinson, Lila: A Novel
Notes: Photo: Tatiana Koshutina (via see more). Quote via quotespile
Live & Learn 
a fortunate circumstance, that takes me to a place of nourished retreat…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Great for you!
LikeLike
I don’t feel it coming on though when I wake I am thankful for the gift…for each breath is a gift…
LikeLiked by 1 person
It sure is…
LikeLike
Sometimes the transistor radio under the pillow helps me to fall asleep other times the talk radio is a hindrance to sleep as the cpap can be too…sometimes I don’t care for the topic on talk radio so I for go the lump under the pillow…
LikeLike
Sigh, pure bliss…. if we could remain in sleep mode through the whole night, eh, David?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, Dale. Yes!
LikeLike
😴😴😴
LikeLike
Especially FRESH sheets, right out of the dryer. Nirvana…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Especially THAT! And if they could be line dried outside in spring, Wow
LikeLiked by 3 people
It’s coming.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Laughing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That sounds so simple. Oh how I wish. Getting there is tough for me but then again, so is waking up in the morning. Hmmm
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmmmm…..
LikeLiked by 1 person
yes, and so yes. and to remain asleep, that is my trick that i have yet to master on a regular basis –
LikeLiked by 2 people
We are some kind of pack, huh???
LikeLike
we’re kind of a mess, but our tribe is made up of good people –
LikeLiked by 2 people
Agree!!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love being swept up into dreams every night. Swoosh, swoosh in the sheets and we’re off to unexplored lands.
LikeLiked by 1 person
yes. swept away!
It’s not over yet.
A dream can spend
all night fighting off
the morning. Let me
start again. A stream
may be a branch or a beck,
a crick or kill or lick,
a syke, a runnel. It pours
through a corridor. The door
is open. The keys
are on the dashboard.
~ Elizabeth Willis, from Ephemeral Stream (Poem-A-Day on January 2, 2014)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ohhh, the Willis poem gives me tingles up my spine and into my dreamhead. It’s perfect. Thank you!
BTW, last night I dreamed there was a knock at the door. I opened it and a dozen red roses sat in a vase as well as a ($600!!) gift card to one of my favorite flower shops. I laughed when I awoke. Give me the keys to that dashboard. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
OMG. What a dream!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙃
LikeLike
I woke up this morning singing the song from the old play dough commercial…”the fun never stops at the fun factory”! <Truth!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha! Funny!
LikeLike
Oh yeah
LikeLiked by 1 person
So true!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is!
LikeLike
If only….. I regularly HAVE to read and only when the book falls several times on my face I feel I‘m not enough ‚restful‘ (full of rest?!) to believe that I can sleep…. the joy of imsomniacs 😉
But although it doesn‘t always work for me, slipping on new sheets and under a fresh smelling duvet is one of the great joys of life – so much so that I don‘t mind washing and changing them every week – and I always let them dry in the air, even in winter when I hang them in our large basement next to the heating – but they told me that they long to be fluttering their stuff once more in the real fresh air, even if sometimes birds were shitting on them …..
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awwww, what a beautiful comment and then I cringe at your close!!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know – that is exactly how I felt that time too…. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person