3 a.m.

I am awakened by the wind howling outside the house van.

My bed is rocking back and forth like a sailboat on rough ocean waves as the wind waxes and wanes.

I picture the darkness outside, which isn't hard because Luney insists we sleep with all of the blinds open. The sky is covered with stars but the reality of the blackness right outside of my open window is a little unsettling. The desert stretches out around me for miles, empty, except for sagebrush, sand and creatures I can't see but must be there.

My imagination runs wild with the thoughts of the ants, the lizards, the scorpions, the coyotes, the bears, the freddy krugers lurking right outside. My pulse quickens and my heart lurches as the door rattles against the metal casing. (I am so glad I can't immediately recall The Blair Witch Project!)

Soft black kitty fur is resting close to my face but as it wriggles and stiffens and turns toward the window in alertness my imagination soars. What could really be out there if the intuition of a cat feels it? Quiet now, a lull in the wind.

We resettle into the covers and sleep until the next bump in the night.