7: New Mexico Desert Days - podcast episode cover

7: New Mexico Desert Days

Apr 29, 201932 min
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Episode description

Let us help you fall asleep. This story was written and narrated by Shelly Johnson. Suitable for all ages. When the story ends, please enjoy drifting off to about 20 minutes of relaxing music. 

Music provided by Purple Planet: https://www.purple-planet.com

Transcript

Welcome to Sleepy Shorts Short Stories for Bedtime. This podcast is brought to you by I have a story to tell you that will help take your mind off of all your worries and cares. You will listen and relax and drift peacefully into sleep. It's time to turn off the lights and snuggle into your bed. Find your most comfortable position there. Now take a few seconds to relax your mind. It's time to sleep. Time to rest and rejuvenate our minds

and bodies. In order to prepare our bodies for sleep, let's do a couple of muscle relaxation and breathing exercises. I want you to inhale for a count of three, and while doing so, tighten all your muscles ready and inhale one two three, Hold your breath, keep your muscles tense. Now exhale to account of six. While you relax your muscles one two, three, four five six, feel your body sinking deeper into your bed. Let's

do this one more time. Take a deep three second breath as you tighten your muscles one two three, hold it now, relax and exhale to account of six. One two, three, four, five six. Let your body sink even deeper into your bed again. It's time now for your sleepy short Let me help you fall us sleep. New Mexico Desert days. I grew up in the desert of southern New Mexico. The house I lived in was at the top of a hill. At the bottom of that hill was

a dead end. I loved that dead end because just past it and was thousands of acres of desert. Most weekend mornings as a child, I would wake up bride and early, excited to go exploring with my dog, Misty. Misty was a German shepherd mix that shed a lot and barked too much, but she was my best friend. German shepherds are loyal and smart, and Misty was both of those things. When we got her as a puppy,

my dad said she needed to be an outside only dog. Thankfully, he caved into my begging and pleading, and soon enough she became my constant buddy. We did everything together. We played together, we slept together. Sometimes we even ate together. But our favorite thing to do was get up early and explore the desert. Exploring can take a lot out of you, so we would make sure to eat a good breakfast first. I would pour

kibble in her bowl as she happily pranced around the kitchen. My breakfast was usually something boring like corn flakes or raisin brand, but I didn't care. I would scarf it down so Misty and I could hurry up and get on with our adventure. Misty knew the routine, so as soon as she was done with her breakfast, she would head toward the front door while I filled up a canteen with ice and cold water from the sink. Misty's green leash

was kept in the closet by the front door. The second I would get it out of the closet, Misty would jump up and down, yelping excitedly. It always took a minute or two to calm her enough that I could get her leash on. I'd opened the door and we would begin our adventure. The house where I grew up had a small courtyard with rosebushes on either side of the walkway. I love to inhale the sweet smell of those rose bushes as we walked toward the wrought iron gate that led to the driveway and

then the sidewalk. Walking down the street always turned into a jog as Misty would be so excited to get to the desert, pulling on the leash, whining, tail wagging. It was only about a five minute walk past the other adobe brickhouses to the open desert at the end of the street. I would take Misty's leash off as soon as we got there and watch her race off with her nose to the ground, sniffing excitedly. We had a little game we would play. One day, she found an old rabbit fur and

buried it deep in the desert sand like it was her special treasure. Then every day after that, when we would go for our desert walks, she would find the rabbit fur, dig it up, and bring it back to me to show it off, usually with her cute nose covered in sand, and then she would run off to bury it in a new hiding place.

As soon as that game was over, we would start our explorations. The desert in southern New Mexico was vast and seemingly endless, miles and miles of nearly white sand, green and brown sagebrush, and plump cacti with pink flowers depending on the season. In Misty and I would stroll for hours, it seemed along the familiar sandy trails through the desert landscape. I loved the feel of the warm desert breeze on my skin, and the way the breeze smelled

of sweet, clean, fresh air mixed with bitter sage brush. It's a scent from my childhood that as an adult I can still distinctly remember. Sometimes our explorations would take us to old arroyos or dry creeks. You could see the erosion on the side of these dry creeks and see the smooth, wavy patterns in the sand that water once made in them during the spring rainy season. Sometimes we would find a creek with water, which Misting love to run

up and down in, barking and biting at the splashes she made. To find an oasis like that in the middle of the hot, dry desert was always a treat for both of us. We would come across some wildlife sometimes on our explorations, too, a green lizard sun bathing on a rock, or a brown and white striped roadrunner zipping across the sand chasing a bug. And by the way, roadrunners actually don't look anything like the cartoon. They

are actually small and dainty and don't say beep beep. On lucky days, we would spook and unsuspecting gray jack rabbit and Misty would be off for the chase. Ten years of chasing jack rabbits in the New Mexico desert and she never caught even one, but that never discouraged her. She gave it her best effort every time, sprinting off into the sage brush, returning to me a few minutes later, panting and exhausted, but clearly very happy. Sometimes

we would begin our desert explorations in the evening, just after dinner. It would be cooler then, and somehow that would make the air smell different to me, regardless of what time we ventured out, though, Misty would always begin the adventure by running off to find the old rabbit fur and bringing it back to me proud. I would pat her gently on the head and tell her good girl, and she would trot contently out of my view in order

to secretly bury it. Again. We wouldn't stray too far from civilization in the evenings, though I knew that there were packs of coyotes out there, because at night I could hear them howling from my house, but I never got to see one. They always stayed hidden, but you could hear them. Being in the desert at dusk was always magical for me. The sunsets seemed to fill up the entire sky with shades of yellow and orange, and even sometimes red and purple. When the moon was full and low in the

sky, it seemed like you could just reach out and grab it. When it rose high in the sky, it would illuminate the whole desert with its light bouncing off the nearly white desert sand. There were many nights that Misty and I would stay out well past my curfew, pretending we lost track of time just to enjoy watching the colorful sunset before we strolled back home in the quiet, bright light of the moon. Back at my house, we would snuggle up in my bed and quickly fall asleep, excited for the new day

ahead of us. Good Night, Lay hold Y l La to d

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