Reflections in the Middle of the Night

August 2006-  
   As a teenager I always considered 2am as the middle of the night. No sane person would ever think of starting their day at such an atrocious hour.

  That was before I met and married my dairy farmer husband, who likes to be done milking before the sun peeks up over the horizon. Now almost 27 yrs later, I view 2am just a little differently.

  I step out of the house and the heavy darkness feels like a blanket as it wraps itself around me. The stillness of the night is only broken by the late summer sounds. There are no vehicles, or big semis roaring through the night. There are no clouds in the sky, I can see a million stars.  The birds start rustling in the trees, as my footsteps disturb their sleep and they change their positions. The barn owl, that lives in the old silo, is out on his perch watching me with distain. With a hoot, he takes flight and circles the barn, wondering what is wrong with these humans. They disturb him all day and half the night. I enter the barn as the first cows slowly make their way into the milking parlor. They too seem loathe to shatter the stillness, their feet keep time with their jaws as they find a stall. They are glad the heat and humidity are past, they are ready for cooler temperatures.

   As my daughter and I turn on the fans and start the milker pump, the spell is broken. The cows start to push and shove as they look for their favorite stall. The cow that was fresh the day before sounds like a fog horn as she searches for her calf. The quiet of the early morning helps to take the sting out of life's little grievances, like the mean spirited cow that kicks the milker into many little pieces and it takes 15 minutes to find all the parts and put it all back together.

   There is only one other thing that can compare to the peace and serenity I feel as I step out of the house at 2am.

  It happens on the mornings that I don't milk, I waken to the sounds of our little granddaughters' voice coming over the baby monitor. As I slowly make me way downstairs, she hears me coming and stretches her little arms out to be picked up. We snuggle down into the rocking chair, she burrows her head into the crook of my arm and gazes up at me. She doesn't want to play, she knows it is the middle of the night and she is supposed to be sleeping. She doesn't want a bottle, she just needs someone with skin on. I can feel her eyes looking into mine in the darkness. We exchange secret thoughts, thoughts she will never remember and I will never forget. I watch her as she slowly lets sleep overtake her. She sighs as she falls into a deep sleep. I continue to hold her, I don't want to put her back in her crib. I want to hold her forever.

2am is still the middle of the night, but it is also one of my favorite times of the day.