I’m lying in bed and the moon fills the sky. The nighttime sounds are loud and rhythmic. Bat’s chirp and rustle and the insects sing….As usual, I can’t sleep and my skinny, young body tosses and turns as I puzzle over the day’s events, life and all that it means…
My bed sits against a huge window and I can look out into the blackness of the African night. I’m lying on my side with my hand resting on the window sill, wide awake with all senses fine-tuned to the night….I can see, smell and hear everything. And the air is vibrant with life.
Gradually, I become aware of a small presence in the room – I know it’s a rat because I can hear the tiny pitter patter of it’s small feet….I’m listening to him now. He gradually works his way around the room and comes closer to my bed….Suddenly, I realize he’s on the windowsill…moving towards my outstretched hand at an unhurried and leisurely pace….I freeze and hold my breath, delighted with the unusual sighting of this shy and intelligent creature. For a moment, I wonder if he will bite me but decide that, from all my experience with rats - considerable for an eight year old - it’s not likely that he will harm me….
He patters up to my hand and stops abruptly. Suddenly, I sense tension in his silhouette….he didn’t expect a hand in his path. I feel his diminutive and precious breath along with the gentlest of tickling feelings from his whiskers as he explores my hand….For a brief moment, time stands still and I am happy.
Without panic, he turns and wanders away – he has lots to do before daybreak – and I’m left delighted, satisfied and at peace…I drift off to sleep…comforted.
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