3am STORM

One of the benefits of insomnia is that you get to experience the 3am storm.

Unlike the 5pm storm, the 3am storm seems to have a gentle almost soothing feel to it.

The 5pm storm crashes in, stomping around in big boots, throwing down great gobs of golf ball size hail and buckets of pelting rain. It slices the sky up with streaks of lightning that fizz and crack and make the hair on your arms stand up.

The 3am storm, it creeps in, hiding behind the dark, not wanting to wake you as it passes. It only makes itself known through the soft gentle roll of thunder that gradually grows louder as it approaches. Occasionally it forgets itself and lets one loud crack but it quickly apologies with soft rain and muted lightning, before it continues to rumble along its way.

This morning the 3am storm lingered longer in the valley. As if to be too abrupt or too quick would be an insult to the stillness of the early morning. None the less, eventually it rolled along, past the mountain range, through the gaps in the hills, over the beaches and out to sea. Nodding and bowing apologetically all the while. Leaving behind the stillness of the early morning, the soft patter of rain on the roof, a chorus of singing crickets and the call of a storm bird to bid it farewell. 

The 3am storm is a friend to an insomniac like me. It lulls me back to sleep.