At first they seem to intertwine, deep in the middle of the night.
Measured beats, taking turns. As if some percussionist were racing between my alarm clock and the bathroom sink. A sharp-tongued steady tick followed by an inexhaustible delicate flop. Then a return trip. And another after that. Keeping score, keeping time.
Even as I try to sleep.
But the occasional off-beat can also be heard if I pay close enough attention. The faucet suddenly relieves itself in a long, winding sigh. One that makes the sink gurgle with delight, eager as it is to consume the excess flow.
And then a quick return back to rhythm. Maybe not quite the same as before. A new song, a different beat.
Sometimes the sounds are so completely in sync that only a single one thereafter splits the night. At least for a time.
At least until they can find a safe place to cycle back out again.
A reminder, here in these sleepless hours, that time doesn’t so much demand our constancy as our movement.
And, perhaps, just a bit of patience through it all.
Image Credit: Pixabay