Sunrise at the Cabin (Encore)

Speaker 1 Get more, nothing much happens with bonus episodes, extra-long stories, and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now.

Speaker 2 Martha listens to her favorite band all the time: in the car,

Speaker 1 gym,

Speaker 2 even sleeping.

Speaker 2 So, when they finally went on tour, Martha bundled her flight and hotel on Expedia to see them live. She saved so much, she got a seat close enough to actually see and hear them.

Speaker 2 Sort of. You were made to scream from the front row.

Speaker 1 We were made to quietly save you more.

Speaker 2 Expedia, made to travel. Savings vary and subject to availability, flight inclusive packages are at all protected.

Speaker 3 This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Fiscally responsible, financial geniuses, monetary magicians.

Speaker 3 These are things people say about drivers who switch their car insurance to Progressive and save hundreds. Visit progressive.com to see if you could save.

Speaker 3 Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. Potential savings will vary, not available in all states or situations.

Speaker 1 Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone,

Speaker 1 in which

Speaker 1 nothing much happens.

Speaker 1 You feel good

Speaker 1 and then

Speaker 1 You fall asleep.

Speaker 1 I'm Catherine Nikolai.

Speaker 1 I write and read all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens.

Speaker 1 Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim.

Speaker 1 We are bringing you an encore episode tonight, meaning that this story originally aired at some point in the past. It could have been recorded with different equipment.
in a different location.

Speaker 1 And since I'm a person and not a computer, I sometimes sound just slightly different.

Speaker 1 But the stories are always soothing and family-friendly. And our wishes for you are always deep rest and sweet dreams.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 especially if you are new here,

Speaker 1 and if you are, welcome. We're so glad you're here.

Speaker 1 Let me say a little bit about how how this works.

Speaker 1 Your mind needs just the right amount

Speaker 1 and type of engagement to make falling asleep easier.

Speaker 1 And after six years,

Speaker 1 yeah,

Speaker 1 I've kind of cracked the code.

Speaker 1 I'll tell you a soft soothing bedtime story.

Speaker 1 It's short on plot, but full of relaxing details.

Speaker 1 All you have to do is listen, and we'll guide your brain to reliable sleep.

Speaker 1 I'll tell the story twice, and I'll go a little slower the second time through.

Speaker 1 If you wake later in the night, You can just start the story over again

Speaker 1 or think through

Speaker 1 any part of it that you can remember.

Speaker 1 This is brain training, so give it some time for it to really become ingrained.

Speaker 1 Our story tonight is called Sunrise at the Cabin

Speaker 1 and it's a story about welcoming the coming day with a friend at your side.

Speaker 1 It's also about dry leaves left over from autumn crunching under your feet.

Speaker 1 The beauty of imperfect things,

Speaker 1 changing light, a coffee cup steaming in the morning air,

Speaker 1 and the gift of an early start.

Speaker 1 I'm not as young as I once was, but I care a lot about maintaining my physical and mental wellness.

Speaker 1 Cornbread hemps, CBD gummies are a huge piece of my wellness plan.

Speaker 1 In fact, I've already reordered several of their products on my own dime. They are that good.

Speaker 1 And I've gifted two of their peppermint and Arnica CBD balms to friends who tell me how much it has helped them too.

Speaker 1 Their gummies are formulated to help relieve discomfort, stress, and sleeplessness. And right now, Nothing Much Happens listeners can save 30% on their first order.

Speaker 1 Just head to cornbreadhemp.com slash nothing much

Speaker 1 and use code nothing much at checkout.

Speaker 1 That's cornbreadhemp.com slash nothing much

Speaker 1 and use code nothing much.

Speaker 1 Now,

Speaker 1 lights out, my dears.

Speaker 1 Arrange your pillows and blankets so that you are as comfortable and comforted as possible

Speaker 1 Let your whole body soften

Speaker 1 jaw

Speaker 1 shoulders

Speaker 1 The muscles around your eyes

Speaker 1 Everything goes

Speaker 1 heavy into the sheets

Speaker 1 You are exactly where you're supposed to be right now

Speaker 1 Nothing is needed from you.

Speaker 1 Draw a deep breath in through the nose

Speaker 1 and sigh from your mouth.

Speaker 1 One more breathe in

Speaker 1 and out.

Speaker 1 Good.

Speaker 1 Sunrise

Speaker 1 at the cabin.

Speaker 1 I'm not sure

Speaker 1 how it started.

Speaker 1 I've never been an early riser,

Speaker 1 nor am I a night owl. I like to go to bed early

Speaker 1 and stay tucked in till late.

Speaker 1 But recently

Speaker 1 I've been waking up before the sun,

Speaker 1 rested and ready,

Speaker 1 wanting to get up and get going.

Speaker 1 At first I resisted,

Speaker 1 flipped my pillow to the cool side,

Speaker 1 and tried to slip back into a dream,

Speaker 1 or propped myself up

Speaker 1 and read my book, hoping my eyes would grow heavy again.

Speaker 1 Then I realized that

Speaker 1 whatever the cause

Speaker 1 of this resetting of my internal clock, I could take advantage of it,

Speaker 1 enjoy it rather than try to wind the hands back.

Speaker 1 And since then I've become a sunrise enthusiast,

Speaker 1 watching it from different locations

Speaker 1 and with a growing appreciation for the quiet optimism it inspired in me.

Speaker 1 Today was no different.

Speaker 1 I woke with no alarm,

Speaker 1 just

Speaker 1 a feeling of being replete,

Speaker 1 done with sleep in bed,

Speaker 1 and crept quietly around in the darkness

Speaker 1 so as not to wake the household.

Speaker 1 I put on thick socks,

Speaker 1 swapped my thin pajamas for warm sweats, and felt around on the bedside table

Speaker 1 till I found my glasses.

Speaker 1 I kept to the edges of the stairs to minimize squeaking as I came down into the kitchen and padded over to the coffee maker.

Speaker 1 As I ran water in the sink and rinsed the carafe,

Speaker 1 I peered out into the yard.

Speaker 1 Our cabin is set at the edge of a valley,

Speaker 1 land dropping away in front of us,

Speaker 1 then rising up and up on the other side.

Speaker 1 More than a hill, but

Speaker 1 not quite a mountain. There are a scattering of houses on the winding roads,

Speaker 1 and a few had lit windows glowing in the early morning.

Speaker 1 I wondered if

Speaker 1 they too were spooning grounds into their coffee filters,

Speaker 1 smelling the scent of the brew.

Speaker 1 When the pot was half full, I poured some into my favorite mug

Speaker 1 and pulled my hood up over my head.

Speaker 1 I stepped into my garden clogs

Speaker 1 and slid the door to the deck open.

Speaker 1 It was cool.

Speaker 1 still

Speaker 1 early in the spring, but not cold.

Speaker 1 And as I stepped out and was about to close the door behind me,

Speaker 1 I heard the jingle of my dog's collar.

Speaker 1 I waited a moment as he came sleepily down the stairs and outside with me.

Speaker 1 He stopped to lean against my leg and let me rub his head, then ran out ahead of me.

Speaker 1 We tromped across the yard,

Speaker 1 the first birds of the morning clearing their throats in the nests above us and singing.

Speaker 1 At the far edge of the yard, just before the drop-off,

Speaker 1 we had a fire pit, ringed with Adirondack chairs, chairs,

Speaker 1 and I brushed a few dried leaves from the seat of one

Speaker 1 and sat down.

Speaker 1 My dog brought me a stick he'd found

Speaker 1 and wagged his tail in the low light, waiting for me to toss it.

Speaker 1 I threw it back toward the house and heard his paws thudding into the soft ground as he chased after it.

Speaker 1 I sighed and leaned back in my chair, bringing the cup close to my face

Speaker 1 and watching the steam lift into the air.

Speaker 1 The light was changing around me,

Speaker 1 so subtle that it was difficult to notice unless

Speaker 1 I paid close attention.

Speaker 1 I paid close attention.

Speaker 1 I noticed that I could see the outline of tree trunks

Speaker 1 and a few of the bigger branches,

Speaker 1 though their tops were lost in the darkness.

Speaker 1 My dog returned,

Speaker 1 laid down beside the chair,

Speaker 1 and catching the stick between his paws, gnawed at it as I waited for the sun to rise.

Speaker 1 It would come up nearly in the center of the valley. Not exactly the center.

Speaker 1 A little to one side, and I liked that.

Speaker 1 Lopsided, imperfect things felt lived in and less fragile than the ones that

Speaker 1 lined up just perfectly.

Speaker 1 The horizon was glowing brighter,

Speaker 1 and the sky above it more blue.

Speaker 1 My senses were wide awake,

Speaker 1 taking in all that they could,

Speaker 1 and it made me feel calm and content.

Speaker 1 I'd heard someone once ask

Speaker 1 why

Speaker 1 being present was

Speaker 1 such a big deal.

Speaker 1 Why work at it?

Speaker 1 The answer they'd gotten was simple,

Speaker 1 and it rang true to me since I'd taken up watching sunrises.

Speaker 1 When our minds and bodies are in the same place,

Speaker 1 we feel better.

Speaker 1 We act more reasonably.

Speaker 1 We make more sense.

Speaker 1 This morning ritual,

Speaker 1 the dog chewing his stick beside me,

Speaker 1 the changing lines of light and color, the taste of my coffee. It

Speaker 1 made sense.

Speaker 1 Helped me make sense of myself and my day.

Speaker 1 Finally, the sun crested over the land in the distance,

Speaker 1 and instantly I smiled.

Speaker 1 If every stitch of land all over the world

Speaker 1 has its own

Speaker 1 special moment each day

Speaker 1 is singled out to be seen and honored,

Speaker 1 This was ours.

Speaker 1 I set my cup on the arm of my chair,

Speaker 1 stood and walked closer to the drop off,

Speaker 1 looking down into the valley that was filling up with bright light.

Speaker 1 The houses on the hill, whose windows were lit while my coffee had been brewing, now just reflected sun.

Speaker 1 I turned my face to it,

Speaker 1 let it shine through my closed lids and revive me.

Speaker 1 After a few minutes,

Speaker 1 again

Speaker 1 feeling replete,

Speaker 1 I turned and whistled for my dog,

Speaker 1 and he came ambling over,

Speaker 1 his stick a bit smaller, but

Speaker 1 still in his mouth.

Speaker 1 I tossed it for him again

Speaker 1 and bent to gather up a few more broken branches and dried-out seed pods.

Speaker 1 Today would be a good day to clear the yard of fallen kindling and brush

Speaker 1 and pile it high in the fire pit for tonight.

Speaker 1 The days were getting longer and warmer now that we were past the equinox,

Speaker 1 and I liked to be outside for as much of it as possible.

Speaker 1 Just as I was dropping the wood into the pit and thinking that a second cup of coffee would hit the spot.

Speaker 1 I heard the windows above the sink creak open,

Speaker 1 and a voice call out,

Speaker 1 Breakfast is ready.

Speaker 1 Coming, I called back,

Speaker 1 and we turned back to the house.

Speaker 1 Sunrise

Speaker 1 at the cabin.

Speaker 1 I'm not sure how it started.

Speaker 1 I've never been an early riser,

Speaker 1 nor am I a night owl.

Speaker 1 I like to go to bed early and stay tucked in till late.

Speaker 1 But recently I've been waking up before the sun,

Speaker 1 rested and ready,

Speaker 1 wanting to get up and get going.

Speaker 1 At first, I resisted,

Speaker 1 flipped my pillow to the cool side, and tried to slip back into a dream,

Speaker 1 or propped myself up and read my book, hoping my eyes would grow heavy again.

Speaker 1 Then I realized that

Speaker 1 whatever the cause of this resetting of my internal clock,

Speaker 1 I could take advantage of it,

Speaker 1 enjoy it rather than

Speaker 1 try to wind the hands back.

Speaker 1 I kept to the edges of the stairs

Speaker 1 to minimize squeaking as I came down

Speaker 1 into the kitchen and padded over to the coffee maker.

Speaker 1 I ran water in the sink

Speaker 1 and rinsed the carafe.

Speaker 1 I peered out into the yard.

Speaker 1 Our cabin is set at the edge of a valley,

Speaker 1 land dropping away in front of us,

Speaker 1 then rising up and up on the other side.

Speaker 1 More than a hill, but

Speaker 1 not quite a mountain.

Speaker 1 There are a scattering of houses

Speaker 1 on the winding roads,

Speaker 1 and a few had lit windows glowing in the early morning.

Speaker 1 I wondered if they too were spooning grounds into their coffee filters,

Speaker 1 smelling the scent of the brew.

Speaker 1 When the pot was half full,

Speaker 1 I poured some into my favorite mug

Speaker 1 and pulled my hood up over my head.

Speaker 1 I stepped into my garden clogs

Speaker 1 and slid the door to the deck open.

Speaker 1 It was cool,

Speaker 1 still early in the spring, but not cold.

Speaker 1 And as I stepped out and was about to close the door behind me,

Speaker 1 I heard the jingle of my dog's collar.

Speaker 1 I waited a moment

Speaker 1 as he came sleepily down the stairs and outside with me.

Speaker 1 He stopped to lean against my leg and let me rub his head,

Speaker 1 then ran out ahead of me.

Speaker 1 We tromped across the yard,

Speaker 1 the first birds of the morning clearing their throats in their nests above us and singing.

Speaker 1 At the far edge of the yard,

Speaker 1 just before the drop off,

Speaker 1 we had a fire pit,

Speaker 1 ringed with Adirondack chairs,

Speaker 1 and I brushed a few dried leaves from the seed of one

Speaker 1 and sat down.

Speaker 1 My dog brought me a stick he'd found

Speaker 1 and wagged his tail in the low light,

Speaker 1 waiting for me to toss it.

Speaker 1 I threw it back toward the house

Speaker 1 and heard his paws thudding into the soft ground as he chased it.

Speaker 1 I sighed and leaned back in my chair,

Speaker 1 bringing the cup close to my face

Speaker 1 and watching the steam lift into the air.

Speaker 1 The light was changing around me,

Speaker 1 so subtle that it was difficult to notice unless I paid close attention.

Speaker 1 I paid close attention.

Speaker 1 I noticed that I could see the outline of tree trunks

Speaker 1 and a few of the bigger branches, though their tops were still lost in the darkness.

Speaker 1 My dog returned,

Speaker 1 laid down beside the chair,

Speaker 1 and catching the stick between his paws, gnawed at it as I waited for the sun to rise.

Speaker 1 It would come up nearly in the center of the valley.

Speaker 1 Not

Speaker 1 exactly the center, a little to one side, and I liked that.

Speaker 1 Lopsided, imperfect things felt lived in,

Speaker 1 and less fragile than the ones that lined up just perfectly.

Speaker 1 The horizon was glowing brighter,

Speaker 1 and the sky above it more blue.

Speaker 1 My senses were wide awake,

Speaker 1 taking in all that they could.

Speaker 1 And it made me feel calm and content.

Speaker 1 I'd heard someone ask once

Speaker 1 why

Speaker 1 being present

Speaker 1 was such a big deal.

Speaker 1 Why work at it?

Speaker 1 The answer they'd gotten was simple

Speaker 1 and rang true to me since I'd taken up watching sunrises.

Speaker 1 When our minds and bodies are in the same place,

Speaker 1 we feel better.

Speaker 1 We act more reasonably.

Speaker 1 We make more sense.

Speaker 1 This morning ritual,

Speaker 1 the dog chewing his stick beside me,

Speaker 1 the changing lines of light and color,

Speaker 1 the taste of my coffee.

Speaker 1 It made sense,

Speaker 1 helped me make sense of myself and my day.

Speaker 1 Finally, the sun crested over the land in the distance,

Speaker 1 and instantly I smiled.

Speaker 1 If every stitch of land all over the world has its own special moment each day

Speaker 1 to be singled out, to be seen and honored,

Speaker 1 this was ours.

Speaker 1 I set my cup on the arm of my chair.

Speaker 1 And walked closer to the drop-off,

Speaker 1 looking down into the valley that was filling up with bright light.

Speaker 1 The houses on the hill,

Speaker 1 whose windows were lit when my coffee had been brewing,

Speaker 1 now just reflected sun.

Speaker 1 I turned my face to it,

Speaker 1 let it shine through my closed lids, and revive me.

Speaker 1 After a few minutes,

Speaker 1 again

Speaker 1 feeling replete,

Speaker 1 I turned and whistled for my dog,

Speaker 1 and he came ambling over,

Speaker 1 his stick a bit smaller, but

Speaker 1 still in his mouth.

Speaker 1 I tossed it for him again

Speaker 1 and bent to gather up a few more broken branches

Speaker 1 and dried out seed pods.

Speaker 1 Today would be a good day

Speaker 1 to clear the yard of fallen kindling and brush

Speaker 1 and pile it high in the fire pit for tonight.

Speaker 1 The days were getting longer and warmer now that we were past the equinox,

Speaker 1 and I liked to be outside for as much of it as possible.

Speaker 1 Just as I was dropping the wood into the pit,

Speaker 1 and thinking that

Speaker 1 a second cup of coffee would hit the spot,

Speaker 1 I heard the window above the sink creak open,

Speaker 1 and a voice call out,

Speaker 1 Breakfast is ready.

Speaker 1 Coming, I called back,

Speaker 1 and we turned back to the house.

Speaker 1 Sweet dreams.