Rainy Willow Cottage: A Bedtime Journey For Deep Sleep

This beautiful sleep story will transport you to a cozy countryside cottage on a rainy evening, where soft thunder rolls in the distance and warmth glows from within. This 40-minute bedtime journey gently blends breath awareness, ambient imagery, and calming narration to help you unwind.

As you settle in by the fire, you’ll be guided to release the day’s weight, slow your nervous system, and drift into restful sleep.

Ideal for those seeking comfort, stillness, and a safe space to let go.

Transcript

Hey,

I'm Chibzo Karake.

Welcome to tonight's bedtime journey.

Tonight we're going to visit a small cottage on a rainy evening,

Where everything is calm,

Familiar and safe.

As you settle in,

Know that it's perfectly normal if your mind feels a little busy right now.

Thoughts can swirl,

Especially at bedtime.

Tonight,

There's nothing you need to do about them,

Just let them drift,

Like leaves floating gently downstream.

Take a few moments to get as comfortable as possible.

Adjust your pillows,

Maybe pull the blanket a little closer.

And before we begin our journey,

Let's notice the simple rhythm of your breath.

You don't need to change anything about the breath,

We're just observing,

Noticing.

And if your mind wanders,

That's okay,

My voice is here to keep you company.

So when you're ready,

Let's begin.

The rain had been falling softly for hours,

Tapping against the windows of Willow Cottage with a gentle,

Steady rhythm.

The small cottage glowed with warmth.

The soft amber light from a single lamp filled the living room,

Casting long,

Smooth shadows across the wooden floor.

The air carries a subtle blend of scents,

A little wood smoke from the fire,

The faint sweetness of lavender from a nearby vase of freshly cut stems,

And the rich,

Earthy aroma of the rain-soaked garden just beyond the window.

As you sit here,

Safe and dry,

You can feel the soft fabric of the armchair beneath you.

Your body sinks slightly into the generous cushions,

The fabric warm to the touch,

Inviting you to rest just a little deeper.

For now,

There's nothing you need to do,

Just listening to the rain,

The fire,

And allowing this quiet cottage to hold you.

The steady rhythm of rain continues,

Like a soft hush soothing the edges of the evening.

You rise slowly from the armchair,

Feeling the familiar creak of the wooden floorboards beneath your feet,

That old,

Comforting sound that seems to whisper,

You're home.

You stretch gently,

Rolling your shoulders,

Noticing how your chest opens as you breathe in and release.

Your eyes wander to the kitchen,

Where the warm light spills across the worn oak table.

The kettle rests patiently on the stove,

As if waiting for you.

You make your way over,

Your bare feet worn by the thick woven rug as you cross the room.

The rain taps a little faster now,

As though nudging you forward.

Lifting the kettle,

You fill it with fresh water from the cool tap.

The metal hums softly as the water swirls inside.

You place it back on the stove,

Turning the knob with a quiet click.

A small blue flame flickers to life beneath it,

Glowing gently.

You begin to notice your breath again,

The natural rise and fall.

Each exhale softens your shoulders just a little more.

As the kettle begins to heat,

You reach for your favourite mug,

The one with the little chip near the handle.

A familiar weight of it grounds you.

You open the small wooden cupboard where your collection of loose teas is kept.

Glass jars line the shelf,

Each one neatly labelled.

You choose the chamomile blend tonight,

A mixture of dried flowers and soft herbs to gently calm the nervous system.

You open the jar and the faint scent of apple and honey drifts up to greet you.

You pause,

Breathing in the comforting aroma as the kettle begins to hum louder.

You move with ease to turn off the flame.

You lift the kettle carefully,

Feeling its warmth radiate through the handle.

The tea leaves sit patiently in the infuser.

You pour the water,

The gentle trickle creating a soft,

Almost musical sound as it fills the mug.

You notice your next exhale.

It's slow,

Unhurried.

The steam curls upward,

Carrying the scent of honeyed flowers once more.

You gently stir the tea,

The spoon clinking softly against the sides of the mug.

Each sound tiny and precise.

You cradle the cup in both hands,

Letting the warmth soak into your fingers.

As you breathe in again,

The scent seems even more comforting now,

Mingling with the background notes of wood smoke and lavender.

For a moment,

You simply stand there,

Taking a few moments to breathe.

Letting the sound of rain and fire hold you in this quiet pocket of time.

With each breath in,

You feel your chest quietly rise.

And as you breathe out,

You allow your body to soften just a little more.

Breath by breath,

Your muscles gently release,

Your shoulders loosen,

The weight of your body gently sinks into the chair.

The quiet rhythm of your breathing carries you steadily,

Softly,

Into rest.

With your warm mug in hand,

You move slowly back towards the living room.

Each step across the familiar wooden floor feels steady and safe,

As if the cottage itself is holding you with care.

You settle back into the armchair,

The cushions reshaping softly around your body.

The rain continues to tap at the windows,

A constant,

Soothing rhythm.

You take a sip of your tea,

Feeling its gentle warmth travel down your chest,

Spreading comfort through your core.

Outside,

The drizzle turns lighter,

Almost mist-like.

The occasional flutter of wind brushes against the windowpane,

A soft sigh against the glass.

Take some time to notice your next in-breath.

Feel your chest gently expand,

And as you exhale,

Notice how your body settles a little deeper.

With each breath,

There's a quiet softening in your shoulders,

A loosening in your jaw,

A gentle heaviness in your arms and legs.

The rhythm of your breath moves through your body like a soft wave,

Easing you further into rest.

The fire gives a quiet pop,

Sending a brief burst of tiny sparks upwards.

You watch the flames dance slowly,

Curling and bending in lazy swirls.

The scent of burning wood deepens slightly,

Earthy and rich.

A soft roll of distant thunder hums in the background.

It's not sharp or startling,

But low and comforting,

Like a great exhale from the sky.

You shift gently,

Pulling the soft blanket over your legs.

The blanket is warm against your skin,

And the faint lavender scent from earlier seems to rise again,

Wrapping you in its calming embrace.

The room holds you.

The rain whispers.

The fire glows.

You glance towards the window once more.

The glass glistens softly as the rain continues its steady rhythm.

Tiny droplets race each other down the pane.

They're gentle paths merging and drifting together,

Each one tracing a slow,

Meandering journey,

As though the window itself is breathing alongside you.

You begin to notice your next exhale.

It's easy.

Unforced.

Beyond the hedgerows,

A distant owl calls into the night.

A soft,

Rounded note that carries across the damp air.

The soft glow from the fire flickers across the walls,

Its movement slow and sure.

With each slow exhale,

Your body drifts a little deeper.

Heavier.

Softer.

The gentle rhythm of the rain mirrors your breathing.

Steady.

Quiet.

Safe.

With every breath,

Your body grows heavier.

The rain remains steady,

Like a soft blanket of sound,

Neither growing nor fading,

Simply present.

A steady,

Gentle rhythm soothing every part of you.

The teacup rests now on the wooden side table,

Still holding a little warmth.

You curl slightly deeper into the armchair,

Sealing the texture of the soft knitted blanket against your skin.

The armrests cradle you.

Firm,

Yet gentle,

Inviting you to drift just a little more.

Outside,

The wind settles.

Only the rain remains.

A candle flickers softly on the mantelpiece,

Its flame swaying gently with the occasional shift of air.

The scent of beeswax mingles with the lavender,

Adding a gentle sweetness to the room.

Take a moment to notice this next breath and feel how each exhale eases your whole body just a little deeper.

The walls of the cottage feel close and familiar.

Every creak of timber,

Every whisper of wind,

Feels known and safe.

This is your haven,

Your tiny world of softness and warmth,

Perfectly held within the arms of the storm-bearing wind.

You watch as the candlelight reflects in tiny points along the rain-speckled window.

Shimmering,

Steady,

The room grows quieter still.

The gentle crackle of the fire becomes softer,

A slow,

Steady rhythm beneath the whispering rain.

The candle's flame dips and sways with each tiny draft,

Its glow casting a warm,

Golden halo.

Onto the nearby wall,

You shift your legs slightly under the blanket,

Feeling the soft fabric glide across your skin.

The blanket is warm,

Textured,

Familiar.

As your body relaxes more deeply into the chair,

A quiet sigh moves through you,

Releasing,

Softening.

Notice this breath,

The gentle fall of your chest,

With each exhale.

Each breath out brings a quiet softening,

A gentle loosening,

Of your shoulders,

Your arms,

Your jaw.

With every slow exhale,

The body drifts a little heavier,

A little softer,

Resting deeply,

Into the stillness of the chair.

The rain outside seems to match the rhythm of your breathing,

Steady,

Quiet,

Safe.

The air carries the faintest trace of damp earth from outside.

The garden,

Soaking gently under the steady rain,

Seems to breathe too.

Its soil,

Dark,

And rich.

Its leaves glistening in the soft light.

You imagine each drop landing on the wide leaves of lavender and mint plants,

Tiny crystal beads that catch the glow of the porch lantern beyond the window.

Inside,

The warmth continues to hold you.

The world beyond these walls,

Dissolves into softness,

Nothing pressing,

Nothing urgent.

Only the soothing embrace,

Of this rainy evening.

The flickering candle,

The low hum of the fire,

And the hush of the falling rain,

Create a simple symphony,

Steady,

Rhythmic,

Deeply soothing.

A few final sips remain in your cup.

You lift it one last time,

Feeling the lingering warmth as it rests in your hands.

The tea has cooled slightly now,

But its comfort remains.

You place the empty cup gently back onto the table.

The soft clink of ceramic on wood,

Feels satisfying,

Like the closing of a gentle ritual.

The candle on the mantelpiece burns lower,

Its flame smaller now,

Dancing lazily in its pool of softened wax.

The rain continues its steady whisper,

Becoming almost part of the stillness itself.

The fire offers one last gentle crackle,

Then quiets,

To a faint glowing ember.

You shift softly under the blanket,

Letting your body settle fully into the chair's embrace.

Your head nestles into the cushion behind you,

Your neck completely supported.

Outside,

The hedgerows glisten faintly in the porch light.

Leaves,

Slick and shining,

Swaying only slightly in the calm.

The sounds of the cottage grow even more muted.

A few final droplets pattering against the window,

The room grows perfectly still.

Every detail has been tended to,

Every comfort in place.

With final flicker of the candle,

Everything softens into quiet.

The rain continues,

Almost blending into silence.

The candle has lowered itself now,

Its light dimming into a faint amber glow.

Your breath,

Soft,

Slow,

Steady,

Effortless.

The blanket holds your body in a gentle weight,

Like a soft embrace.

The fire glows low,

Its embers pulsing faintly.

The leaves are still,

The cottage completely at ease.

Outside,

The hedgerows stand quietly,

Their leaves glistening in the faint light.

Notice this next inhale,

And this next exhale.

Drifting,

Releasing.

The rhythm of the rain becomes almost like a distant memory,

A tender murmur.

Safe,

Your muscles rest heavily into the cushions.

Fingers relaxed,

Jaw soft,

Eyes resting behind closed lids,

Warm blankets,

And steady breath.

No thoughts needed,

Just this simple,

Weightless,

Quiet.

The cottage holds you completely now,

As the night carries you gently into sleep.

Wrapped in the hush of rain and firelight.

You drift,

Deep,

Reviews

I fell asleep without having to stop the recording, which is often what I do with sleep tracks. That tells you how soothing and well paced this recording is. The cozy cottage imagery was absolutely lovely. I had an emotionally difficult evening and my thoughts kept flitting to that, but the gentle narration brought me back. Thank you!

Editing to add: this is now my most favorite sleep track. It puts me right to sleep and is so, so soothing. I keep coming back to it. Chibs, I sent a small donation in gratitude. 💗

I could listen to his voice all day, every day.
Such a nice series of visualizations, and a lovely range of background sounds. So incredibly relaxing.

That was lovely. I wish I could have heard the end but I was out. Thank you 🙏🏼