My apologies to @mariannewest. I didn’t follow the rules for this one. I just felt like writing on this topic.

all phtos courtesy of Pixabay

After more than a year of 3 pm to 11 pm shifts, you’d think I’d get used to the routine. Except there was no routine. Every shift was so vastly different.

You can never adequately explain what goes on behind the closed doors on an admission ward of a mental health facility. The movie based on the book by Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, gives the viewer a distorted view of what happens in reality. Some shifts go smoothly and others become a test of your training and endurance.

I lived with my family on a farm 13 km from the hospital. Coincidence? Perhaps. The drive home, along a river was always my time to unwind. Put the tunes on low and soak in the evening air.

After a particularly gruelling shift, I found myself driving along the road listening to the symphony of sounds; the crickets chirping, cows in pastures quietly lowing, a lonely dog barking some distance away and the soft sound of the loose gravel crunching beneath my wheels.

As I get further from the city lights, I start to see the multitude of twinkling stars. The tension of the shift starts to lift. My hands loosen their death grip on the steering wheel. I can feel myself unwinding.

A very large two striped sunk saunters across the road in front of me. I stop to let him pass. I care not to have my minivan smelling like a pretty kitty for the trip home. Besides, it takes months for that smell to wear off no matter what miracle product you use to clean it!

Round the bend and the full moon comes into view, bathing the river banks in a soft glow. A ten point buck raises his majestic head, water dripping from his muzzle. I can’t help but smile at nature’s beauty.

Rabbits scamper along the grassy fence bottoms, showing their white cotton ball tails. A short distance ahead I can see the bridge I need to cross. The water sparkles like jewels in the moonlight.

I turn left to cross the bridge and then a quick right. Another km and I’m home. Up the hill, close to the bend I see 10 golden orbs floating in the air. As I approach I can see an opossum family has settled down for the night.

I can see the lights of our barnyard light beckoning me home. My husband is sitting reading with one dog lying at his feet and the other with his head in his lap getting his ears scratched. He looks up and smiles.

I park the van and both dogs are there to greet me. Inside I dropped my keys in their bowl on the counter and hubby is there to greet me too.

The boys coming running out for their goodnight hug and kiss even though they have been asleep for hours. They need to feel reassured that mom is home.

Dad tucks them in again and I head out to the porch. Sitting in the comfy Adirondack chair, gazing at the stars and smelling the freshness of the corn in the field next to the house.

A few minutes later, hubby arrives with two fresh cups of coffee and hands me one. We sit and chat quietly for a while just taking in the night sounds, watching the fireflies playing tag between in the forest of corn stalks.

If you sit quietly enough, you can almost hear the corn growing. I am satisfied that all is right with the world and will have pleasant dreams this night safely tucked in my husband’s arms.