“I love the silent hour of night,
For blissful dreams may then arise,
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes.”
~ Anne Brontë, Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters
We’re home again at our little farm, for a while at least.
It rained on and off from late in the afternoon yesterday, and then all through the night. Ben lit a fire, and we had early showers, put on our pyjamas and made big mugs of tea.
Then we camped in front of the fire, reading books, drinking tea, and listening to the rain on the roof. It was so quiet. Just the rain, the creak and click of the fire, the rustle of a page being turned, and the occasional sigh or snore from one of the dogs.
The possums crawled out of the roof just after dark and came looking for a piece of fruit.
We fed them, ate a bowl of soup ourselves and decided to head to bed early for a good night’s sleep.
The Powerful Owl landed in the jacaranda outside the bathroom as we were cleaning our teeth. I thrilled to see him so close.
And then possums ran across the roof all night, and fought in the trees outside the house. So many possums. It sounded like a possum nightclub full of drunk, misbehaving animals. Despite their behaviour I still managed a good night’s sleep.
This morning the powerful owl was still there. He flew into the trees near the driveway and sat watching me while I worked at my desk. I realised he was dining on possum and I hoped that it wasn’t any of the possums we know. When I took my mug of tea outside and went to say hello I found three feathers on the ground below him and brought them back inside with me.
It’s so good to be home!