It started about a week ago—an unsettling restlessness around bedtime, a silent tossing and turning, a nagging sensation that something wasn't right. It was taking forever to fall asleep in our big, warm, comfortable bed. At first, neither of us could figure out what was wrong, and the enigma of it was maddening. Eventually, though, I had a stroke of insight:
It's too quiet in here!
With a Minnesota winter fast approaching, we'd shut our windows, sealing away the chill evening air. Without realizing it, we'd also separated ourselves from the soothing sound of the wind, bugs, and all manner of wildlife in the woods outside. Having recognized the source of the stifling lifelessness we felt, we couldn't stand it any longer.
So, we flung off our oppressive covers at 1AM and made a plan of action: Tyler would set up our tent in the backyard, while I filled a backpack with everything we'd need. But first, we got dressed: merino wool from head to toe, followed by flannel pajama pants, fleece hoodies, and knitted hats.
Sufficiently bundled, Tyler padded downstairs to get our accommodations sorted. Meanwhile, I collected a pair of water bottles, a roll of toilet paper, our headlamps, and finally, two apples for snacking. On my way out, I grabbed the pillows from our bed with a smile, knowing this small luxury would make our new home even more cozy.
Twenty minutes later, I joined Tyler outside—he had already assembled our trusty little tent, and nestled it in a stand of birch trees under the night sky. The nature we'd been missing was all around us once more, illuminated by a brilliant moon which cast a pearly glow over our new abode. As we chuckled with satisfied delight about our 1AM escapade, our laughs became trails of smoke, lit in the beams of our headlamps.
Then, we crawled into our double-wide sleeping bag, and bristled against the initial chill of cold nylon. In a matter of minutes, though, our body heat had tamed the air around us, and our little cocoon was as warm as could be. Listening to the rattle of brittle leaves against the wind, I felt connected to nature once more. In the downy depths of our new bed, we snuggled up to sleep; moments later, we fell into a peaceful slumber.
