Night Animals

What is it about winter darkness that brings out the primal in us humans? As I fall into bed after a long day, shouldn't I feel accomplished, serene, peaceful? And yet, I sense the animal instead.

Like a dog with his thrice-made circle or a squirrel with her fussed-over tail, I have strange rituals. I hunch into a protective curl. The blankets must reach my ear. I wrestle with my pillow to get it rise under my cheek and lower under my nose.  Just so.

And that's just the falling to sleep. What about the waking in the middle of the night? Suddenly then, my covers become a hardened shell from which I shall not be detached. Better to stay inside their protective layers than brave the cold bathroom floor, the creak on the stairs, the plaintive call of my not-so small child.

I growl at the intrusions. But I do get up, and rejoin the human race. Temporarily.