I’d watched the clock sneak slowly across its yellow-lit globe: 1:01 a.m., 1:10, 1:21, 1:44, 2:01, knowing I should make my eyes stay shut. Surrender to sleep like a bear surrenders in his winter cave. But I felt more like a fox, wide awake in the sleeping hour, needing to explore and hunt in the starry night.
So, finally, I knew what I had to do. At 2:23, I slowly unwrapped my legs from the cottony sheets and stole out of the room, my husband’s snores assuring me he had no idea of my sleepless struggles.
I tiptoed through the dark hallway toward the front door. With each step, the tinkling grew deeper, more insistent. I stopped for an instant, realizing I should have pulled on the bathrobe hanging on my bedpost, but shrugged an “I don’t care,” and turned the doorknob. The moon was a bright round orb, enticing me to move further out into the soft summer night chilled with a coastal breeze.
The chimes now filled the space all around me. Up ahead on the small hill that sat near our complex like a waiting sentry, I noticed swift sudden movements.
I was wide awake – more so than during the day. My skin tingled, my heart raced, and my feet itched to stride up the hill.
But my self-awareness disappeared when I encountered a filmy flirty fairy dancing rhythmically in front of me, leading me to the group at the top of the hill. She pointed ahead of her, and I shook my head as if in disbelief. But as I pinched my upper arm, I knew I was awake and that the scene in front of me was as real as the smell of the summer grass and the background music of chirping crickets.
Twenty, no, at least thirty sprites cavorted in a group dance of such ecstasy that without thinking, I joined in immediately. My legs moved with fluidity, and my arms became limpid, waving like wings. My heart, or was it my soul, flew above and all around me in a delight sweeter and richer than love or joy.
This, I realized as I flew with the fairies, was the full expression of “my heart sings.” I believed I’d never return to “normal” existence; however, I woke the next morning with grass in my hair and a flimsy feeling I’d had the best dream, ever.