Relax with your sleep story for a restful night.
The world is full of magical dwellings,
And tonight you get to fall asleep in one of them.
Every night,
Michelle's Sanctuary offers a library of cozy stories for sleep.
Feel free to subscribe or leave a suggestion,
As the sanctuary is yours as much as it is mine.
Of all the options you have for sleep,
I so much appreciate your presence in choosing Michelle's Sanctuary.
You are listening to The Windmill Cottage,
A relaxing bedtime story for grown-ups,
Set in the Netherlands.
A starry night stroll through rolling pastures and tulip gardens brings you to the cozy 19th century windmill transformed into a charming cottage.
Let the storybook setting and folklore of the tiny village of Zilkerhaven captivate your attention as you connect with the comfort and beauty found in this abundant world.
It's time to dream away.
Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.
I am Michelle,
Your gentle guide on relaxing nightly bedtime adventures,
Enhanced by your imagination.
Think of me as a long-time friend who shows up whenever you are ready to prioritize yourself and your sleep needs.
Let this story unfold like a dream,
With fluidity and the ability to change any detail to make this experience as pleasurable and comforting as possible.
Feel your heart open as your mind becomes less rigid.
Connect with your inner artist and dreamer,
Who is always there,
Eager to help you find beauty in this life and craft your dreams.
And of course,
Feel free to fall asleep at any point.
As you settle into your bed,
Feel gratitude for the sanctuary of your room and mind.
Cast away the noise and demands of the outside world.
As you tune into your cozy inner world,
Open your mouth and let out a big sigh as you make peace with the day.
No matter what has happened,
You have made it to the other side,
And now you deserve rest.
Slowly inhale through your nose,
Imagining the air in your room takes on the fragrant notes of dewy grass,
The citrusy and honey perfume of tulips.
And the salty and flinty fragrance of a canal.
Relax with a yawn that transforms into an audible sigh as you feel curious and open to an enchanting voyage.
Continue twice more,
Prioritizing your peace with each breath.
When you inhale,
You sip in all the pleasures of the night.
Savor every second of restoration because the only thing you need to do right now is feel good.
With every sigh,
You let go of tension and any mental obstacle that tries to get in the way of this delicate easing.
Let your closed eyelids become the dark canvas where you visualize the story about to unfold.
Connecting with your inner Van Gogh,
Your breath effortlessly resumes its natural,
Sleepy rhythm.
It's time for the story to begin.
Not far from the bustling city of Amsterdam lies a picturesque village designed centuries ago,
With masterful efforts that transformed a flood-prone region into a habitable community,
Without natural dunes to protect the land from a rising sea and rivers.
Mighty walls known as dykes transformed marshes into farmland.
Below sea level,
The Netherlands,
Meaning lowland,
Or Holland,
Meaning hollow land,
Benefitted from water-pumping windmills since the 13th century.
These polder mills helped reclaim the land from the sea.
For many years,
Windmills were at the heart of Dutch life,
Evolving to mill grain and saw wood.
The Dutch took pride in their resilience,
Working with nature rather than fighting it.
Wind set the sails in motion,
Moving gears and pumps of the mills to bring the water in low-lying regions to higher canals,
Rivers,
Or reservoirs.
Of course,
One day,
Modern inventions and electricity and diesel would prove more efficient.
Yet the windmills remained symbols of Dutch ingenuity.
And such was the case in the village of Zilverhaven,
Named after its silver harbor.
In this quaint village of wooden homes and centuries-old windmills,
Moonlit nights bring an air of romance to the canals and reservoirs,
As they reflect the luminous light.
At the turn of the 20th century,
One of the most vital windmills in Zilverhaven was slowly fashioned into a charming cottage with a unique soothing soundtrack of the sails in the wind.
And on this fortunate night,
The Zilverhaven windmill cottage welcomes you for a retreat.
You arrive at the time of year when tulips are in full bloom,
Showcasing a rainbow palette of petals partially gleaming in opal moonlight while partially concealed in the blue shadowy cast of nightfall.
You enjoy a leisurely stroll through the quiet village,
As the muted scuffle of your shoes on a cobblestone path is accompanied by the distant bleating of sheep.
The night feels timeless,
Enhanced by the pastoral beauty of the landscape.
The rising full moon pours over the village,
Bathing everything in a soft silvery glow.
The cobblestones beneath your feet are slightly damp,
Made reflective by the lingering essence of the sea.
As you wander,
The citrus and honey melon scents of blooming tulips fill the air,
Mingling with a salty tang carried on the gentle breeze from the nearby harbor.
The air is cool and crisp,
Caressing your skin and carrying with it the tranquil sounds of a sleepy village settling into the night.
You are grateful for your thick cotton hoodie and soft well-worn jeans that keep you cozy and prevent the damp air from settling in your bones.
A glassy reservoir ahead shimmers with a mirror-like quality,
Reflecting the moonlight and the twinkling stars,
And acting like a footlight that illuminates the looming windmill cottage behind it.
Underneath a vast starry sky,
The fields of Zilverhaven bloom with a mesmerizing tapestry of tulips.
Reds,
Yellows,
Pinks and purples stretch across the landscape in waves of vibrant hues,
Each petal shimmering in the hopeful luminescence of a full moon.
In the distance,
Sheep graze peacefully in verdant pastures beyond the well-maintained rows of tulips.
Their gentle baas are more subdued than their morning bleeds and become faint beneath the more present sound of rippling water from the nearby canal.
Their woolly,
Cloud-like forms,
Silhouetted against the starlit horizon,
Inspire a sense of sleepiness so intense you wouldn't dare count them now.
When there is so much more you wish to explore,
You venture across a stone bridge,
Often referred to as the Kissing Bridge.
A place where young couples once snuck away to take in the panoramic views and seal the night with a kiss before parting ways.
Your hand brushes atop the smooth stone railing,
Worn by time and the elements.
You appreciate its sturdiness and the dreamlike quality of crossing it.
How spectacular and strange it is to have all this beauty to yourself.
You take in the illuminated fields,
Imagining the Dutch residents long ago,
Who were made to be peacekeepers between the delicate power balance between land and sea.
So masterfully contained,
You look out at the tranquil waters that reflect the starry sky above,
Without a hint of the ocean and river currents that once controlled their fate.
So in tune with the night,
You can feel the minuscule droplets of water in the damp air.
They are so tiny,
They can't be seen by the naked eye,
Yet they are felt,
Leaving the slightest taste of salt on your lips.
You approach the rose of tulips,
Opting to walk down a middle pathway until you are in the heart of the garden.
A week later,
You would have missed this splendor.
The combined moment of the full moon meeting the tulips at their peak.
Bathed in ethereal,
Pearly moonlight,
The thick waxy petals take on a magical quality.
Their colors intensify as dewdrops become iridescent.
Reds appear deeper,
Yellows become golden,
And purples are as rich as the night sky.
The palette of tulips goes well beyond basic colors.
Reds range from raspberry to cherry to crimson and tomato red.
Purples are a gradient from lavender silver to eggplant and purple black.
Some tulips showcase more than one hue.
Fuchsia with cotton candy pink edges,
Butter yellow petals with streaks of cardinal red.
You could get lost in the beauty of a single bloom.
But collectively,
The royal carpet of tulips that unfold around you feels like being in the center of a floral kaleidoscope.
As you stand beneath the expanse of the lush velour indigo sky,
Surrounded by the arresting beauty of Zilverhaven's tulip fields,
Your heart swells with appreciation for this abundant and beautiful planet,
As well as for the dedicated souls in the Netherlands who have honored her throughout time.
Amidst the beauty of the tulips,
It's easy to understand why Holland is the greatest exporter of flowers in the world.
The swirling bands of colorful tulips wind around the landscape like a rainbow river weaving its way through a field.
In this timeless and effortless moment,
Surrounded by all these colors and the twinkling stars above,
You feel a profound sense of connection to the land and its storied past.
A connection that transcends time and speaks to the enduring spirit of resilience and ingenuity that defines the Dutch landscape.
You inhale deeply,
Wishing to stay in this moment a bit more,
But ultimately,
The chill in the air motivates you to move on.
You follow the center path through the tulips as it bends towards the entrance of the windmill cottage.
You step off the path onto a lawn of dewy emerald grass that cushions each step you take towards the charming dwelling.
Before you,
The windmill cottage stands tall and proud,
Its grand silhouette etched against the night sky.
Moonlight filters through the sails,
Creating a lattice-like pattern of shadows on the grass.
The aged wood of its exterior is as rough and weathered as a wooden ship that has sailed the globe many times.
Each time-worn plank implores you to wonder about nautical adventures and seaside communities.
The sails,
Though still throughout the day,
Readily catch the whispering winds and slowly spin,
Delivering a promising and soothing song for slumber.
Ivy slithers up the stone base,
Its waxy green leaves becoming otherworldly in the lunar glow before wrapping around the facade to blend into the shadows.
The windows,
Small and inviting,
Glow with a warm golden light that offers the allure of a night spent indoors fireside.
Although the sails are on the other side,
The circular tower allows you to see them gracefully turning through the windows,
Slicing through the moonlight and ambient glow pouring out of the cottage.
A placard hangs next to the entrance and in brass lettering reads,
Established 1874.
Just after the windmill was converted into a cottage at the turn of the 20th century,
And long before it became a holiday retreat,
It was passed down through the hands of Dutch artists and poets.
The windmill cottage was thought to be enchanted.
A muse that freed creative blocks to help its inhabitants become their most prolific and inspired.
Van Gogh once said,
I dream my paintings and then I paint my dreams.
The windmill cottage has a revered history of being a dream catcher and for over a century,
Guests have left handwritten passages in a guest book detailing their dreams.
The book is as large as a monastic illuminated manuscript.
And a part of you wonders what dreams may come to you on this special night.
As you step closer,
You hear the gentle creaking of the windmill's structure.
You place your hand on the cool brass handles of the double doors.
The hand carved doors reveal their craftsmanship with wrought iron hinges and weathered oak and open with a soft welcoming groan.
You step into the abode,
Made unique by its round design and exposed brick walls that feature the patina of time.
Edison bulbs and wall sconces illuminate oil paintings depicting fields of tulips at night and quaint Dutch villages with windmills and colorful wooden homes with gabled roofs.
Flames lick the stone walls of the fireplace.
That stands between a quaint kitchen and the living room.
The ceilings of the main room rise high above,
Showcasing exposed wooden beams that crisscross and are the color of espresso beans.
They taper down along the edges to create intimate bedroom nooks tucked under the eaves and reminiscent of tree hollows.
A small library nestled against one wall offers a haven for the many cool,
Rainy days of winter.
Literary masterpieces provide an escape from the gloomiest times.
A winding wooden staircase rises along the wall of windows that look out on the rotating sails to the second-floor bedroom loft,
Where large wooden gears make up the ceiling.
For decades,
The loft space was an artist's lair as painters,
Sculptors,
Musicians,
And writers took residency in the space,
With its large windows looking out on the pastoral beauty of Zilverhaven.
Moonlight filters through the windows,
Adding cool,
Luminous tones to the amber glow of the fire.
The windows are cracked ever so slightly to allow a constant circulation of fresh night air.
The kitchen,
Though compact,
Exudes a quaint charm with its antique stove and freshly painted ivory wooden cabinets.
Tiny hand-painted tulip designs add pops of color to the cabinet doors.
Throughout the cottage,
Fresh tulips overflow from delft blue and white porcelain vases.
But the most interesting vase sits above the kitchen sink and features tubular structures like a bagpipe.
The cradle individual blooms with care,
The tulips in shades ranging from bold pink and scarlet to periwinkle,
Pale yellow and white,
Create a striking contrast against the iconic Dutch porcelain's delicate patterns.
The floral accents enhance the charm and soften the space with a feminine touch.
The smell of burning logs,
Dewy night air,
Fresh-cut tulips and old wood create an olfactory symphony that brings a homey essence.
You walk to the fireplace and stoke the logs,
Watching sparks fly up the flue,
Imagining them swept away by the wind and taking flight above the windmill's sails.
A window seat with a plush turquoise velvet cushion and an array of throw pillows beckons to you.
You settle in it,
Hugging a pillow to your chest as you peer out onto the moonlit landscape and take in the beautiful night one final time.
Sleepiness washes over you like the waves of an incoming high tide,
Not kept away by dikes or canals.
It will soon embrace you completely.
And so you allow yourself a yawn or two with your forehead leaning against the glass,
Giving yourself the chance to wish on a star.
For if ever there were a night of stars meant for dreams,
This would definitely be one of them.
You slowly ease into the motions,
Preparing for bed,
And walk into the cave-like bathroom.
Stone walls curve gently around you as you enter the intimate and comfortable space.
In one corner is a shower surrounded by aquamarine glass walls.
A showerhead is artfully arranged amidst stones,
And as you turn on the faucet,
Water flows like a waterfall cascading over a cliff.
You wait for the water to heat until steam envelops the room and disrobe.
As you step beneath the shower's perfect pressure,
You reach for an evergreen bar of soap and the built-in stone soap caddy.
The botanical fragrance of this local hand-crafted forest soap envelops you,
Filling the air with cedarwood,
Eucalyptus,
And rosemary.
The soap lathers into a rich foam,
Cleansing your skin and filling the air with its purifying scent.
The aroma is as invigorating as the fresh breeze that filters through a round stained glass window above the showerhead,
Where moonlight pours through,
Casting colorful patterns across the stone walls.
Amidst the soothing sound of water cascading and the faint hum of the windmill outside,
You find yourself lulled into a tranquil state of mind.
The rhythmic whirl of the windmill's sails adds to the symphony of nocturnal sounds with its easy,
Soporific drone.
Your muscles release,
So soft and flexible as your eyes become heavy.
You tilt your head toward the showerhead,
Feeling the water massage your forehead with,
Before rolling over your scalp and the crown of your head.
Everything about this moment feels supportive and relaxing.
After luxuriating in the shower,
You remove a freshly laundered towel from a cedar chest,
Inhaling the aromatic blend of cedarwood and fresh linen.
You change into a silky robe that hangs on a hook.
And cinch the belt around your waist.
Circulating air penetrates the delicate fabric,
Creating a cool sensation on the slight trace of water that remains on your skin.
The coolness of the air will assuredly lead to a great temperature for sleep.
You wander through the cottage,
Turning up lights and putting out the fire.
Of the two bedrooms and loft in the dwelling,
Upon check-in,
You are drawn to the most secluded bedroom,
Tucked away among the eaves.
The room welcomes you with its cozy atmosphere,
Featuring a bed beneath the slanted ceiling with protective wooden beams along each side.
Adorned with a patchwork quilt and a mountain of pillows,
The bed evokes the feeling of spending the night at a beloved grandmother's house.
On the wall opposite the bed is a rocking chair before an oval window that frames a peaceful view of the moonlit fields.
The light of the full moon guides you as you approach your luggage,
Perched atop a built-in rustic wooden shelf,
And carefully retrieve your soft pajamas.
As you change into your sleepwear,
The windmill sails whisper in the breeze outside.
It creates an ideal backdrop,
Calming your senses and grounding you in this present,
Dreamy moment.
Hunkering down in this den-like space,
You feel embraced by the cozy ambiance of the cottage.
The rarity of this stay has you longing to absorb every detail.
You slowly walk to the bed,
And the wooden beams around it create a cradle-like experience.
You peel back the heavy quilt and crisp sheets,
And climb atop the supportive mattress,
Letting out a sigh.
The mattress cradles you with its gentle firmness,
Offering a sanctuary of rest one might come to expect in a village named Zilverhaven.
As you lie beneath the covers,
The constant murmurs of the windmill sails bring a rhythmic cadence and somnolent white noise.
Each breath you take seems to sync with the gentle motion of the sails,
Guiding you toward a state of deep relaxation and inner peace.
In this moment,
Surrounded by the timeless beauty of the Dutch countryside,
You feel a profound sense of contentment as well as exhaustion.
Even after you close your eyes,
The moonlit landscape and its colorful bands of tulips and sheep grazing in kelly green pastures play out before you.
The region delivers a bone-deep peace that easily ushers you into a night of deep sleep.
The harmony of nature and the windmill cottage create an oasis of serenity and renewal that you have sought and so very much deserve.
And so you welcome the reward of sleep,
Full of wonder and appreciation for all that will unfold as you dream throughout the night.
Finding comfort,
Finding bliss,
Finding sleep,
It's time to dream away.
Good night.
