The Enchanted Hayride | Sleep Meditation Story

Fall asleep fast in this dreamy bedtime story for grownups.

You're listening to The Enchanted Hayride,

A calm sleep story set in the legendary town of Sugar Hollow.

Autumn is a magical time for this mystical New England village where people travel to visit the healing candle shop and enjoy secret dinners on red covered bridges.

You enjoy a hayride beneath the stars and a canopy of jewel toned leaves as the full hunter's moon rises.

You ride through an enchanted forest and the timeless experience lulls you into a state of deep peace and reverence to deliver you to a cozy cottage.

It's time to dream away.

I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle and as you listen you may think of my voice as that of your dear friend and fellow adventurer.

I hope in the sanctuary you feel the most relaxed and safest that you have felt all day.

Let go of anything that interrupts this time for serenity and restoration.

Connect with the healing powers of your imagination to go to places deep within you where anything is possible.

Customize each moment to meet your needs and let go of my voice and drift to sleep whenever it feels right.

Wiggle and settle into the comforts of your bed.

Let out an audible sigh and feel all tension and expectations travel away from you on your exhalation.

Inhale fresh air slowly,

Sipping it in like a soothing salve.

Each breath will become deeper.

Inhale to a capacity that feels best to you.

Then open your mouth into a big yawn,

Slowing down your brain waves and telling your body it's time to stand down.

Exhale in another sigh.

Slow,

Relaxed and content,

You sink deeper into your bed.

Continue with a soothing pattern of sipping in fresh air,

Yawning and exhaling in a sigh.

Your nerve cells welcome this permission to be at ease.

Your muscles and joints soften like the wax of an autumn candle.

Snuggle beneath your covers and return to the style of breathing at any point you need more comfort and relaxation.

Your closed eyes are like lush velvet drapes that block out the world.

As your breath comes to normal,

Notice how much more relaxed you feel than moments ago.

It's time for the story to begin.

Stanley Horowitz penned,

Winter is an etching,

Spring a water color,

Summer an oil painting,

And Autumn a mosaic of them all.

In the picturesque village of Sugar Hollow,

The mosaic season offers a time of healing and celebration.

Cozy sweaters and sips of hot cider offer warmth from the brisk air.

Visitors and locals alike tune into nature.

They seek her guidance rather than tell her how to be.

Autumn festivities bring enchanted moments.

And while each season in Sugar Hollow is postcard worthy,

The opulent hues of fall linger in one's memories the longest.

The late day sun casts the cornfields and orchards of Aura Farms in golden light.

As your breath condenses on the crisp air in a silvery cloud.

With a thick flannel overcoat buttoned to your chin,

A soft cotton scarf,

And comfortable pants,

Your boots step onto the damp earth of a corn maze.

You walk beneath the shadows and emerge into sunlight filtered through the feathery corn stalks that rustle in the breeze.

The shade feels almost too cool.

The sun-dabbled patches feel almost too warm.

And so the constant journey from darkness to light feels best and offers balance.

A school group of young children wanders through the maze and their animated chatter and laughter travel throughout the corners.

You navigate the many turns following your intuition and sense of smell led by the fragrant mulled cider cart that is near the exit.

You spend the afternoon wandering through the rows of apple trees and touring a candy apple red barn that houses baby cows and pregnant goats all begging for attention and treats.

You walked around a glassy pond watching bright red maple leaves drift across the water.

Your thoughts became pure and childlike,

Curious and imaginative.

As you sat on a wooden dock on the pond,

You wondered what it might feel like to shrink and be small enough to float across the pond on the perfect fiery red leaf.

Since that thought,

You have moved through the afternoon with fluidity as if in a dream.

You arrive at the exit of the corn maze and walk towards the cider truck.

Liliana,

The teenage daughter of the owner of Aura Farms,

Asks what flavor of cider you prefer.

An ornate hand-painted sign that looks decades old lists the flavors you may add to the hot drink.

Butter rum,

Cinnamon sticks,

Cloves,

Nutmeg,

Cranberry,

Pumpkin,

Cherry,

Maple,

Pecan and ginger.

She fixes the drink to your preferences,

Happy and energetic,

As she stirs and pours the beverage into an autumn themed cup and hands it to you.

The smell is intoxicating,

Rising to your nose on a thick cloud of steam.

You close your eyes and inhale deeply,

Letting the notes linger before you sip the drink.

Liliana lets you know that the carts are lining up in the field and people will be boarding soon.

The sun dips beyond the snow capped purple black mountains that surround the town lines of Sugar Hollow.

The sky erupts in vibrant streaks of marigold,

Mandarin orange,

Lavender,

Fuchsia and a deep shade of purple.

You wander through a pumpkin patch,

Where bright orange spheres are entangled with dark green vines braided close to the earth.

The air smells of sweet pumpkins and decaying leaves as the cool wind gently guides the aroma of a campfire in the distance.

Your cider keeps your hands warm and you continue to sip the silky fragrant drink as you come to the golden fields,

Where two wagons full of hay await.

One is led by a vintage Ford truck and will explore the apple orchards and end at the pond where people will light floating candles and set free their wishes beneath the full moon before they return home for the night.

The second wagon is drawn by two chestnut horses who eagerly look forward to the love and attention poured on them in autumn as they journey through the mystical woods for their sixth year partaking in the Hunter's Moon festivities.

On the celebratory night welcoming in the Hunter's Moon,

You are fortunate to have a seat for the spectacular voyage through the enchanted forest surrounding Aura Farms.

Those who take the horse drawn wagon will spend the night in tiny cottages in a clearing in the forest.

You watch the school children board the first wagon.

They playfully toss loose flaxen reeds of hay at one another.

The sky becomes a velvety shade of navy blue and a glowing orange band frames the horizon.

From an aerial view,

Sugar Hollow always has a mysterious golden luster.

Folklore says the village was blessed centuries ago and a golden aura appeared to protect the land and all who visit the town.

Some believe this golden light suggests a portal where those who believe can connect with things beyond the physical plane.

Whether true or not,

These kinds of stories excite the children,

Particularly on the cusp of Halloween.

You board the horse drawn wagon with a couple who have traveled from someplace far away.

A college student who was awarded a spot for her extensive volunteer work with senior citizens and rescued animals in Sugar Hollow.

A father and his curious 8 year old son.

And lastly by Liliana who partakes in her first hunter's moon hayride.

She waited many years to have a spot on this voyage,

Which her parents encouraged,

Hoping she would go at a time she would most appreciated.

Her ebony cocker spaniel Finn boards along with her and asks if you wouldn't mind keeping the pub company while she rides in the front next to her father Johnny.

You happily agree and run your hands through the pups long shiny coat.

You settle along the side of the wagon on a flannel blanket draped over a row of hay bales.

Finn gets comfortable at your feet and leans against your legs full of trust.

Battery operated lanterns with Edison bulbs cast the flaxen straws in amber light and hang in each corner of the royal blue guard rails that surround the wagon.

You inhale deeply through your nose,

Feeling the damp air warm in your nostrils and smell the sweet dusty scent of the hay.

Darkness comes early and you welcome it on a star filled night,

Reveling in the cool air that is perfect for sleep and dreaming,

That is ideal for getting cozy on a hayride.

Before the horses take off on the trail,

Liliana hops from her seat to the back of the wagon and passes out shawls she knitted with her grandmother throughout the summer months leading up to this night.

You thank her and drape the chenille fabric over your shoulders.

As the horses take off,

You are grateful for the shawl that adds the perfect amount of layering for the brisk night.

The intent murmurs,

The clopping of horse hooves,

And the soft squeak of the wagon wheels join the symphony of night sounds including singing crickets,

Crunching leaves,

And wind whistling through the fields.

The horses know the way,

Yet Johnny coaxes them lovingly with a basket of apples in the front that will be given to the dear animals upon arrival.

Small clouds of dust rise from the dirt path as the full moon appears and basks them in opal light.

You stare at the moon,

Imagining all the autumn harvests on this hallowed land through time.

Autumn has always been a time of slowing down and taking stock,

Of preparing for a season of hibernation and reveling in its golden promises and vibrant hues.

It is a season of tempering,

Like dipping a toe into the cool water of a lake to prepare oneself for the wave of cold to come.

You interlace your fingers and create a basket with your hands to support your neck and head as you look up at the constellations.

Finn curls up in a ball at your feet and begins to softly snore as the wagon rocks everybody gently back and forth.

You surrender to the vibrations and to and fro motion of the wagon,

Thinking back to your reverie about floating on a maple leaf across the pond.

You unexpectedly sigh,

So deeply relaxed that you are surprised to hear the sound of air escaping your lungs so freely.

The horses approach the edge of the forest.

The jewel toned and golden canopy of changing leaves glisten in the moonlight.

Liliana turns to every passenger and speaks like the narrator of a mysterious book.

Magical things are known to happen on the night of the hunter's moon.

It's best to just go with them and celebrate the beauty rather than question it.

Johnny looks at his daughter,

Who has heard about the folklore and experienced the enchantment of Sugar Hollow throughout her childhood.

The cynicism of her early teen years dampened the magic,

But time willed its return.

A heart open to enchantment will always feel more alive than one closed off by the restraints of a critical mind.

Johnny is relieved his daughter returned to her imaginative self,

Something not everyone does in this chaotic modern world.

Moonlight filters through the orange-gold and banana-yellow clusters of leaves.

Some leaves are muddled,

Still changing from summer's rich green hues into yellows,

Oranges and reds.

Fallen leaves glide through the shadows,

Adding color to the night,

Before they gracefully land on the forest floor.

The horses' hooves and wide wagon wheels crunch over a blanket of dried coppery leaves in a predictable rhythm,

Inspiring relaxation.

The papery bark of white birch trees reflects the moonlight and creates an otherworldly glow.

The sweet,

Damp earth smells of tobacco and dried fruits,

Adding to aromatic layers of balsam fur,

A freshwater stream,

And wood smoke.

The sensation of rocking back and forth connects with deep memories buried in a time forgotten,

When you were nurtured and comforted to sleep.

You let go of this feeling,

Your mind drifting from one memory or idea to the next.

All thoughts that you associate with the season of fall.

You remain conscious of the journey through the forest,

Yet at the same time cozy thoughts overlap.

Visions of warm fires,

Heavy blankets,

Soft sweaters,

Quaint homes on cozy streets decorated with pumpkins and gourds,

And strands of cotton simulating cobwebs.

These festive images and the enthusiasm of souls who continue to celebrate,

Even when the world has revealed moments unkind,

Kindle a fire of hope in your chest.

It reminds you why special occasions,

Like this night on a hayride,

Are more important as an adult than they may have ever been as a child.

You see a smoke trail in the distance,

Squiggly above the canopy of leaves,

And marking the spot where you will camp for the night.

The color of the moon deepens into an orange hue surrounded by a prismatic halo that gleams through the half barren branches.

Kinetic energy fills the air,

So much so that everyone suddenly becomes still and quiet as goosebumps rise and tingling sensations travel over your scalp.

Vibrant mahogany and tangerine leaves fall around the wagon,

Slowly as if in suspended animation.

Individual leaves,

Directed by the wind,

Circle overhead,

Suddenly as if scrawled in cursive with a glowing pen of moonlight,

Words begin to appear on the leaves,

Conjuring feelings and evoking ideas.

Throughout history,

People believed that written words cast the first spells.

Spell'em originally meant story,

But in the Middle Ages,

It took on a magical connotation.

A fiery cherry red maple leaf falls,

Similar to those floating across the pond,

With the word peace appearing in sparkling penmanship.

The word conjures a feeling of peace in your mind and your heart.

It warms you all over as the leaf travels in the air,

Above every soul in the wagon.

A diverse array of leaves slowly fall around the wagon as it moves through the woods.

The horses are aware that something is happening,

And bide their time as curious as human and canine companions on this journey.

Finn sits on his haunches as the glowing leaf lands on his wet nose.

He balances it perfectly,

And everyone laughs as he nudges it onto your lap.

You pick up the leaf,

And the word peace continues to burn brightly.

An amber colored leaf swirls above the wagon,

With a word unwind glowing on it.

A gentle breeze blows more leaves above the heads of riders and bales of hay,

With more positive words.

Gratitude,

Kindness,

Hope,

Imagine.

These words glow brighter than the lanterns and scatter over the wagon,

Surrounding you with reminders.

Burgundy and lime green leaves fall,

With these words glowing on them.

Love,

Bliss,

Friendship.

The widest leaf of all sails over the group,

Ornamented with the word connection.

The 8 year old boy has the most fun sounding out these words,

As he is the newest reader in the group.

But with the word connection,

All at once,

Everyone looks around at each other,

Their eyes sparkling with intrigue and hope,

Brought by the warm feeling of being connected.

Connected to this magical moment,

To nature,

And to each other.

A mosaic of these vibrant leaves,

Set aglow by inspirational words,

Covers the bales of hay.

Each time your eyes look over the words,

Bliss,

Love,

Hope,

Freedom,

Joy,

Connection,

Inspire,

And dream.

Your mood becomes more elevated.

There is no ceiling for the elation these ideas can bring.

The same is true for your fellow travelers who all feel lighter and free of concerns.

These words,

These feelings,

These ideas are the tonic that make life worth all the efforts and disappointments that fade in the background when you focus on them.

The messages on these leaves cover the wagon floor as a roadmap to a fulfilling life.

Johnny guides the horses to a stream and gives them a break to sip the cool metallic water aglow in the moonlight.

Liliana comes to the back of the wagon and opens a box of empty mason jars.

She passes them around and everyone selects the glowing leaf that carries the most important message to them.

You select the leaf that describes an intangible thing that you most need in your life right now.

As you place this glowing leaf into the glass jar and spin the metal top closed,

You focus on the word.

You imagine a life full of this sentiment and smile.

You imagine a life where this idea is your intention.

You imagine it is the master key that may unlock cures to anxiety and bring an end to concerns that bump you out of the calm centered state of being you are meant to experience.

This sentiment drives you.

It enlivens you.

After everyone has selected a leaf and placed it in a mason jar,

Liliana and the little boy gather the remaining leaves into a wicker basket where they continue to glow and illuminate the night.

Johnny returns to the wagon and guides the horses to a clearing in the woods.

Tiny cottages surround a bonfire tended to by Johnny's wife Madison.

More stars glitter above the clearing than you have seen concentrated in one area before.

There seems to be more starlight than darkness.

The full moon is in the center of the clearing,

Shining brightly on the carpet of fall leaves,

Pine cones,

And evergreen needles.

One by one people exit the wagon.

Liliana carries the basket of leaves as Finn chases after her.

The little boy and his father offer apples to the horses.

Madison greets everyone with a tray of hot towels that smell of fresh lavender grown at the farm in summer and turned into essential oil in fall.

You are the last to exit the wagon and gratefully take the warm cloth and wash your hands and face with it.

You stand by the fire and look at the sky one last time before settling in your tiny cottage for the night.

You inhale the scent of charred wood and the dry leaves with a trace of soporific lavender remaining on your skin.

The magic of sugar hollow feeds your soul.

You look to the glowing leaf inside your jar and smile.

Knowing this chosen intention will color the dreams to come on this perfect night for sleep.

Liliana places the basket on the ground and the inscribed leaves glow as brightly as the fire.

She removes a leaf that says thankful and gives it to her mother.

Knowing how hard it can be to show gratitude at her age,

All the adults pay attention to the exchange and smile.

Sometimes gratitude feels uncomfortable,

But it is a feeling worth pushing through and celebrating,

Even if it does not come easily.

The remaining leaves take flight in the air and drift towards the orange-hued moon.

They sparkle across the sky like shooting stars and disappear into the darkness.

You could not feel more gratitude in your heart when Madison points to your cottage.

Tiredness takes over and as you walk across the clearing to the rustic log dwelling,

You still feel the gentle rocking motion of the hay wagon.

You open the screen door into the one room cottage and are guided by the orange glow of the moon that pours through the skylight and the amber light of the leaf in the mason jar.

The cottage is basic yet comfortable,

With colorful accents and autumnal decorations that smell of cinnamon sticks.

A basket of apples rests on an oak table,

Glistening in the moonlight.

The cottage reminds you of a fairy tale,

Or perhaps a few that you now confuse in the state of contentment and sleepiness.

You place the mason jar on a nightstand as the word continues to burn brightly on the fallen leaf.

You change into simple cotton pajamas left for you folded neatly onto the bed.

You peel back the heavy quilt and climb atop the firm mattress.

The bed is cool at first,

But your body temperature warms it quickly.

The weighted quilt wraps around you like a loving hug.

As you close your eyes,

You feel more tired than you have felt in a very long time.

The distant sound of rustling leaves and burning embers from the bonfire usher you to sleep.

As you drift down,

Down,

Down,

Floating toward sleep,

Sinking into its embrace with the ease of leaves falling towards the forest floor.

And as you drift like a cloud of fog slithering through the night,

You arrive at the bridge to your sleeping life,

Crossing over it for a night of deep,

Healing sleep.

Come morning,

You will not know if this was all but a dream,

But nevertheless,

Hope will fill you just the same.

And you will awaken thinking of that word on the leaf in the jar and make it your intention throughout a new day.

Tucked in this cottage deep in the woods of sugar hollow,

You welcome the stillness and peace that will prevail throughout the night as you let go.

Finding peace,

Finding bliss,

Finding enchantment,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.

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