February 24, 2005
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I'm looking out my window. I'm in bed looking out my window; my bed is up high, like a bunk bed. They call it a loft bed. The room's just not big enough, so the bed is on a shelf. It's on scaffolding. There's space underneath for a desk and other assorted.
I'm in bed and the covers are pulled around me, and the slight hollow bouncy sound comes from the mattress when I move even the slightest bit. I'm looking out the window, out the top of the window, the top of the window not covered by the safety rails and the top of the metal blinds...
I can't sleep, and I'm looking out the window. It's a new house, full of new people. Four humans, a dog, a cat, and a dove. The dove sings it's song whenever people are moving around. It's a lovely song, in and of itself, but I know that the dove is singing because it feels threatened. It is the proverbial caged bird. Sometimes it cackles at the dog and puffs up to look big.
I can't sleep, because it's all so new. It's all so different from living alone. There are people in all the rooms around me, and they're sleeping, so I'm self-conscious about the noise. The floorboards squeak, so a trip to the bathroom ends up being more stressful than holding it in. Not that it stops me, but that's how it is.
I'm in bed, looking out my window, and down below I see the alleyway fence, and it's wired-on case of hubcap-itis. I see the neighbor's roofs. Can't see in any windows. I see down the hill, and to water. I see Lake Washington. And following the silver path of the reflected full moon, I see the lights of the east side. Juanita and Kirkland, bedroom communities. A red light flashing on top of a building. The occasional car going up the far hill. Halogen orange halo.
I feel good in my up-high bed with the synthetic and goose down comforters, and the flannel sheets. Content. Warm and elevated. But I'll never get to sleep.
(Note: This is not the view from my window. But it's the view from the park down the hill from my window.)
Comments (6)
Now we know where you are in a real way. New places are never easy for me to sleep in either. I usually need to break them in with daylight naps.
yeah new places are always so hard to get used to...i always feel like i'm sleeping in someone else's bed and that they'll come back any moment...
I layed awake in bed a long time last night as well...looking up out my window, all I could see was the moon, but it was enough.
That photo is so, so beautiful. A real 6 pointed star. May I clip it to my desktop for further enjoyment?
I never sleep the first night anywhere new. Ever. Hotels, friend's houses, even staying with family... Hope tonight gives you a long and deeply restful night of sleep.
I fourth that-- I don't sleep well in new places, either. But since smell is usually the main factor (for me, anyway), it usually helps to dress my pillow up in a couple of my t-shirts-- not necessarily clean-- before I go to sleep. Makes the new place smell familiar.
Hey Homer... Congratulations on finding your new home! I wish you much domestic groove, a fantastic repartée of housemates, and many stress-free trips to the WC. Your view sounds wonderful! Maybe I'll come visit someday?
(((M)))
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