My sleeping conditions were raw and chilled, but after all, I was at an overnight camp in Western Michigan.  Maybe I should mention, it was also Wednesday*.  

The rain began to pour from the nimbus clouds shortly after the campers went to bed; simultaneously to the crescendo of rainfall, my feet started moving toward the direction of water front- no umbrella, no lantern**. 

My feet hit the sand at the bottom of the infinite stair case with a delicate thud.  The kind of thud you don't hear during the day time.  The kind of thud you know is special because you hear when you're not listening for it.

I stood at the Double- O*** with my arms perpendicular to the falling rain, fists clinched and heart open, in hope to catch every drop of moisture the angels were sending down.  The harder the rain fell the louder I sang a silly song to myself and danced an innocent dance.  And as the late hour passed, so did the clouds.  Out of breath, but full of light, I lay on the sand- drenched.  Perhaps for clarity.  But I'm still humming those beautiful songs, even as slip into a slumber.

That night, I napped for 3 hours under the stars, on cold wet sand.  

Last night I slept for 7 hours in my expensive bed of down-feather. 

I'd take the sand over mattress any day. 

*Wednesday is most commonly known as "break down day."  Home sick campers, lack of bowel movements (sad, but oh, oh so true), lack of sleep, etc.  

**Don't try this at home.

***Silly name for a fireplace and some benches, but it works.