You know, I think I'm officially getting older, because I now have two obsessions that would have bored me to death a few years ago. The weather, and birds. I can now spend 20 minutes talking about whether it's going to rain, and how that compares to the weather this time last year, and just as not interesting, I can tell you about every bird in my backyard. The chickadees, the robins, and the magpies. Those black and white beautiful birds who like to taunt my cat. They'll sit at the window, making those little chattering sounds cats make when they're plotting bird murder. And the magpies just strut around like they own the place, which, let's be honest, they probably do. And I guess it was just a matter of time before I wrote a sleep narrative about birds. So for tonight's journey, I'm taking you to the Isle of Skye to follow two ravens as day turns into night. I think it's the perfect setting to launch you into peaceful sleep. It's magical, and mysterious, and hauntingly beautiful. These narrative episodes are carefully crafted to occupy your mind just enough to keep it from overthinking. While surrounding you with themes that naturally slow your thoughts and ease your nervous system into that perfect state for sleep. And that means, as always, you need to be somewhere completely safe while listening. Preferably tucked into your warm, comfortable bed. You'll find a full disclaimer in the show notes. And tonight I just want to say that I would really love to hear from you. Some platforms have a place where you can leave a comment right in the episode. Or you can always send me a message on social media. Tell me where you're listening from. What's been keeping you awake? What I can do better? Or just say hi. I absolutely love hearing from you. It's really what keeps these episodes going, and it reminds me that there's a whole community of us out there, all seeking better sleep. Now, let's help your body settle into perfect comfort for tonight's journey. Find your most comfortable position. Pull those covers up and around you. And take a slow, deep breath in. Feel the cool air filling your lungs. And then exhale gently. Let's do that again. But this time, make your exhale even longer and slower. Breathe in deeply. Hold it for just a moment. And then release it with a soft sigh. And feel how your body responds to this simple act. Becoming just a little bit heavier, a little bit more relaxed. Keep breathing at your own natural pace, but try to keep it deep and slow. As you breathe, begin to notice any areas where you might be holding some tension. Check those tiny muscles around your eyes and mouth, and let them soften. Bring your attention to your shoulders. So many of us carry the day's stress right here in our shoulders. So take a moment to lift them up towards your ears. And hold them there for just a second. And then let them drop. Feel that release spreading down through your arms. Give your hands and your feet a little wiggle. Move those fingers and toes just a little bit to release any remaining tension. And then let them become completely still and heavy. Feel how your whole body is now settling more deeply into your bed. You're ready now for tonight's peaceful journey. Where two ravens will guide you into the most restful sleep. The afternoon light over the Isle of Skye holds that golden quality that comes only in the hours before evening. Soft and honeyed, it spreads across the ancient landscape. Touching the weathered stone formations and endless stretches of purple heather. In this magical light, two ravens move together across the moorland. Their sleek black forms creating graceful silhouettes. They are a mated pair, these ravens, bound together. They move in perfect harmony across this timeless landscape. The larger of the two gliding just slightly ahead. His powerful wings catching the thermal currents that rise from the sun-warmed earth. His mate follows, her movements mirroring his. With such precision, it seems like they share a single mind. Their shadows drift across the heather below them. Two dark shapes moving in perfect unison over the purple carpet of blooms. The shadows stretch long in the afternoon light, reaching across stone and stream. A red deer lifts her graceful head from grazing to follow their flight. Her large dark eyes tracking their passage before she returns to the sweet grass. Below them, the isle of sky unfolds in layers of breathtaking beauty. Ancient volcanic ridges rise like sleeping giants from carpets of heather that stretch toward the distant sea. Streams of silver water wind through hidden glens. Their gentle murmuring barely audible above the whisper of wind. The ravens catch an updraft and begin to play. The male banks sharply to the left and then rolls in a graceful barrel turn. His mate follows his every movement as if connected by an invisible thread. They spiral upward together. And then the female overtakes her mate with a sudden burst of speed. And he responds by tucking his wings and diving playfully beneath her, only to rise again at her side. A mountain hare, its coat still showing patches of white winter fur, freezes motionless among the heather. The birds continue their aerial ballet, seemingly unaware of all the life below them, focused entirely on flight. Eventually, the ravens settle on a weathered stone outcropping. The stone is warm beneath their feet from hours of afternoon sun, and they position themselves close together. Their sleek feathers catching glints of light, they begin to preen, first themselves and then each other. The male reaches over to smooth the delicate feathers around his mate's neck, areas she cannot reach herself. She closes her dark eyes, her body relaxing under his touch. The light continues to shift around them, growing softer and more dreamlike. The harsh edges of the day are melting away. Mist begins to gather in the distant valleys. Soft, white wisps that rise from the warming earth. The heather seems to glow with its own inner light, thousands upon thousands of tiny purple bells, swaying in the evening breeze with motion so rhythmic, it's almost hypnotic. From their stone perch, the ravens take flight again. They glide toward a small loch nestled between rolling hills. Its surface mirrors still and reflecting the golden sky like polished bronze. As they approach the water's edge, their twin reflections appear beneath them. Four ravens now, two in the world above and two in the shimmering world below. The male descends first, his talons barely disturbing the surface as he touches down at the water's edge. Ripples spread outward in perfect circles. His mate joins him, and together they wade into the shallow water with careful steps. The female dips her head beneath the surface and then lifts it to let droplets cascade from her sleek feathers like tiny diamonds. Her mate follows her lead, submerging himself partially before rising to shake the water from his wings. A family of highland sheep grazes on the far slope above the loch. Their woolly forms dotting the hillside like scattered clouds. They pause occasionally to gaze down at the ravens. Their presence adding to the sense of peaceful coexistence. The ravens preen again, working methodically, arranging each feather with the precision of master craftsmen. Water droplets catch the afternoon light, making their plumage shimmer. The male stretches one wing fully, displaying the remarkable span of his flight feathers. A gentle breeze stirs the water's surface. The ravens seem content to linger here at the loch's edge, occasionally taking small sips of the clear island water, or simply standing in silence. Eventually, they take to the air once more, their flight now carrying them higher up the mountainside. Their shadows precede them across the rough terrain. Dark shapes, flowing over ancient stone. A golden eagle soars in the distance, so far away it appears as little more than a speck against the vast sky. Yet the ravens acknowledge its presence with subtle adjustments to their flight path. Not from fear, but from the natural courtesy of shared airspace. Lichen-covered boulders scattered across the moorland glow, like ancient jewels. And the streams that thread through the landscape shine, like ribbons of molten gold. The ravens' flight takes them past a circle of standing stones, weathered monoliths, that have watched over this land for thousands of years. Below them, the landscape begins its own transition toward evening rest, flowers closing their petals, small creatures seeking shelter, the very air growing softer and more still. Their final flight takes them over terrain made magical by the approaching dusk. Stone cottages with smoking chimneys nestle in protected valleys, their windows glowing warmly in the gathering shadows. Gardens filled with highland wildflowers release their evening fragrance into the cooling air. Meadow sweet and wild rose, bog myrtle, and honeysuckle. Ancient stone circles and weathered ruins emerge from shadow, reminders of countless generations who have watched these same skies. The heather bells close slightly as the temperature cools, and the streams reflect the last light like ribbons of silver. The ravens find their roosting place, a tall standing stone that has weathered centuries of storms and sunshine. They settle close together, their bodies touching in companionable warmth. Gradually, they become still, their movements growing smaller and more peaceful as darkness gathers around them. The first stars begin to appear, tiny points of silver light. Venus appears as the evening star, bright and steady. The ravens tuck their heads beneath their wings, becoming two dark shapes silhouetted against the star-filled heavens. Their day is complete as night settles over the mystical Isle of Skye. The landscape around our ravens grows quiet now, filled only with the gentle sounds of night beginning. A soft sigh of wind through ancient stone. The rhythmic whisper of waves far below against the base of weathered cliffs. All is peaceful. All is well. The ravens rest in perfect trust, held safely in the embrace of gathering darkness. Like these ravens settling into their evening rest, you too can feel your muscles beginning to soften and release. Notice how your breathing has naturally slowed during this gentle journey, becoming deeper and more rhythmic. Your body knows exactly how to do this, how to transition from the activities of day into the rest of night. Feel how your shoulders are releasing any tension. Your arms feel so beautifully heavy now, weighted with that pleasant drowsiness that signals your nervous system is shifting into its most peaceful state. Notice your heartbeat, how it has found its own resting rhythm, has been working faithfully for you all day, and now it too can slow into the peaceful pace of approaching sleep. What a remarkable gift your body is, how perfectly it knows when to be active and when to rest, when to engage with the world, and when to turn inward toward dreams. Feel the weight of your head settling more deeply into your pillow, your pillow that holds you so perfectly, supporting you exactly as you need to be supported. Your spine is finding its natural curve of rest, each vertebrae settling into perfect alignment. Your legs feel so wonderfully heavy, like they're melting into the mattress beneath you, completely at peace. You are so safe here in this comfortable space, safe in your own bed, surrounded by familiar comfort and warmth, like the ravens tucked safely on their ancient stone. You too are held securely in a place of perfect rest. Your nervous system recognizes this safety and responds by releasing you deeper into relaxation, deeper into that beautiful drowsiness that promises peaceful sleep, I add. Your breathing continues to deepen naturally, each exhale releasing you further from the concerns of the day, and each inhale drawing in perfect calm. There is nothing you need to think about right now, nothing you need to plan or solve or worry about. Like the island evening settling into peaceful darkness, your thoughts are becoming softer, more distant, less defined. Feel grateful now for your remarkable body, for lungs that breathe without your conscious effort, for a heart that beats with perfect rhythm, for muscles that have carried you through this day, and now know exactly how to rest. Notice how pleasant it feels to simply lie here, how good it is to have nowhere else to be, nothing else to do but rest in this perfect comfort. Sleep is approaching naturally, inevitably, in its own perfect time. You don't need to chase it or force it. Simply rest here in this drowsy contentment and let it come to you as gently as starlight appearing in the evening sky. Your eyelids are growing so beautifully heavy... wanting to stay closed, resting peacefully. Your thoughts are becoming like the soft evening sounds of Skye... distant, gentle, barely there at all. Everything is exactly as it should be in this moment. You are exactly where you need to be, held safely in comfort and peace. Rest now... drift now... like those devoted ravens settling into perfect stillness against the star-filled sky. Sleep will come as naturally as night follows day, as gently as mist rising from Highland streams, as peacefully as two hearts beating together. Sleep now. Sleep deeply. Sleep well.