Four Seasons, 1000 Islands | Sleep Meditation Story

Experience the 1000 islands, an archipelago that scatters across the St. Lawrence River on the border of Canada and the US, known for castles and historic homes. Stay at a regal bed and breakfast in spring, on a private island in a rustic summer cottage, at a guesthouse in an apple orchard in autumn, and at the Harbor Inn during the holiday season. Connect with nature and the majesty of each season in this unique landscape. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Fall asleep fast with this calm bedtime story and sleep meditation for grownups.

You're listening to 4 Seasons,

1000 Islands.

In this relaxing sleep story,

You travel to the Thousand Islands,

An archipelago of 1864 islands that span the St.

Lawrence River and Lake Ontario.

Each season you enjoy different accommodations,

Including a regal bed and breakfast,

A rustic cottage on a private island,

A guest house on an apple orchard,

And a harbor inn in winter.

Throughout your diverse experiences,

You discover the many ways to get cozy and adapt to Mother Nature.

So find a place where you may enjoy this mental vacation and safely fall asleep.

It's time to dream away.

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

I am Michelle and as you listen,

Think of me as a dear friend and advocate for sleep.

In the sanctuary,

You may feel the most relaxed and unguarded that you have felt all day.

My intention is to fill your mind with imagery that soothes and reminds you of the healing powers of your imagination.

With one thought,

You may travel to places you have never been.

In the sacred time for respite,

There are no rules and there is no pressure to do anything that doesn't align with your comfort.

Customize the story and this listening experience in any way that you like.

You are free to let go of my voice and fall asleep at any point.

Grant yourself the permission to go with your feelings without expectations and with the trust that you will activate new pathways in your brain.

And as these new pathways form,

The old grooves that kept you from sleep and peace will lose their power over you.

Enjoy the brief meditation that follows or skip ahead to the story.

Wiggle out any last impressions of the day and places of tension in your body.

Stretch,

Adjust your body into the most comfortable position you can find.

And find stillness when you are ready.

Focus on your breath and let out a sigh.

It feels good to sigh.

As if your body says,

Nothing matters right now.

I am spent and I am ready to let go.

And the air in your room is fragrant with the aromatic notes of your favorite season.

Inhale through your nose,

Sipping in the soothing scents accompanying this time of year.

The air is the perfect temperature and your nose prepares it for your lungs as they fill to their utmost capacity.

Open your mouth in a big yawn.

Signal to your body that you are sleepy and then sigh as you exhale through pursed lips.

Blow away any thought or sensation that no longer serves your desire for peace.

Yawn with ease in this restful place where you can yawn again and again without judgment.

Then sigh.

Feel your belly sink and your body become heavier.

Enjoy one last round of conscious breathing.

Return your breath to normal when you are ready.

It's time for the story to begin.

It began as a challenge or perhaps a dare from someone who told you you should visit the thousand islands in every season with a heart led by wanderlust.

It seemed like the perfect push to ensure that you traveled more.

An island can feel isolated and solitary,

But the archipelago of a thousand islands brings a sense of community.

Each island offers a small world on the St.

Lawrence River,

Connected by boats and the promise of new discoveries.

You arrive for the first time in spring,

As the final thaw of the season has brought the islands back to life.

The river flows freely once again,

Connecting communities and reopening homes.

In the quietude of the shoulder season,

You arrive on Wellesley Island,

Home of two state parks that comprise two thirds of the land on the island.

The St.

Lawrence River and the rich wet earth cast their perfume on a balmy morning.

You spend the early hours wandering through a park,

And come upon a doe and her fawn sipping from a narrow metallic silver stream that was once a trail of ice.

You dip your fingers into the brisk water,

And it renews you.

A fluffle of brown baby rabbits graze in a clearing in the wooded area,

Beyond the stream bank.

In a month's time,

The park will come to life with visitors setting up camps and reveling in nature.

But now,

You and the animals of the woods are the only ones bearing witness to the awakening of spring.

So much more can be experienced by foot than by car,

And so you walk for the rest of the late morning to your accommodations.

You travel along the grassy shoulder of a two-lane highway that runs parallel to the waterway and is dappled with forget-me-nots and dandelions.

You pass by scarlet and dark green cottages overlooking the river.

The clear blue skies become overcast as you near the end of your walk.

The silvery gray clouds and sudden bleakness contrast the newly sprouted emerald blades of grass and rainbow array of tulips to create a dreamy,

Otherworldly vibrance.

You walk by a small marina and look out on the softly lapping blue waves.

The sounds of squeaking ducks join the songs of geese and swans that swim along the shoreline.

Seven baby ducks waddle behind their mother across the velvety grass,

And one falls behind while the family looks at you suspiciously and continues forward.

The rebellious duck turns its neck inquisitively towards you.

The baby mallard walks over and pauses at your feet.

The brave,

Fluffy duckling looks up and lets out a quack.

As it does,

A ray of sunlight beams through the clouds and shines on you both.

The golden light is warm and sparkling.

As you look into the beady eyes of the downy brown and yellow duckling,

You share a moment.

You admire the adventurous spirit of this little one,

And its curiosity matches the same sense of intrigue that led you to the Thousand Islands.

The mother soon notices the duckling is missing,

And scuttles back to scold it and nudge its tiny body back to the line-up.

You continue your walk to the Hart House,

A bed and breakfast located in what was once an 80-room summer cottage,

Slipped across the frozen St.

Lawrence River piece by piece to make room for the bolt castle.

The innkeepers restored the majestic cottage over time,

And the rooms are timeless and regal.

As you come upon the entrance,

Purple-gray bellied storm clouds create shadows on the grassy estate.

The first fat droplets of cold rain land on your cheeks and hands.

The air becomes cooler,

And you are instantly relieved that you arrived just in time.

Stone chimneys and a watchtower jut against the stormy sky.

Lush spring flowers in hues of magenta,

Fuchsia,

Lavender,

Yellow,

And ivory surround the entrance to the bed and breakfast.

The cedar-shake siding is a tawny gray,

Weathered by time,

Yet freshened up by the white trim around the porch and many windows looking out on the river.

You enter the foyer,

Illuminated by the soft glow of a chandelier.

A fire roars in the stone fireplace,

Crafted by the innkeeper,

Who learned over time how to anticipate the dramatic weather shifts on the islands.

There could not be a better day to spend in this romantic retreat.

You check in and receive your key,

And continue to the cashmere suite as rain pelts against the windows and roof.

The suite boasts Bedouin decor,

With gold accents and lush shades of red walls and linens.

A canopy bed sits in the heart of the room,

And elephant statues and gilded paintings decorate the walls.

The worldly ambiance adds a timeless feel,

It conjures thoughts of 19th century adventurers traveling the world by ship and filling trunks with souvenirs from exotic lands.

You retreat to the bathroom and fill the tub with steamy water.

An afternoon bath is a perfect tonic for the sudden chill in the air.

The luxury of this getaway offers a time to simply relax and enjoy an afternoon nap.

The regal tub overlooks a fireplace that you go to and start a fire.

The flames cast an amber glow on the burgundy walls adorned with gold leaf paint.

You add a wooden spoonful of spiced citrus bath salts,

And the fragrance of orange peels and cinnamon permeates the warm air.

You undress and slip into the deep whirlpool tub.

The jets massage your shoulders and neck.

You release tension you didn't know you were holding in the winter months,

Where you often braced yourself for the cold.

Everything brings a state of ease and opening that you enjoy on this sleepy and rainy afternoon.

The rain comes down harder and the sky darkens,

Making it impossible to guess the time,

The only indicator that an hour or so has gone by is that the bath water becomes lukewarm.

As you drift in and out of a meditative state,

Feeling quite sleepy,

You rise out of the bath and dry off with a plush cream towel.

You slip into a robe and cinch the belt around your waist.

You return to the bedroom and draw the rich red paisley curtains closed.

You pull back the heavy crimson quilt and climb into the canopy bed.

The pillows and mattress are the plushest you have ever encountered at an inn.

Your body sinks into them and you quietly celebrate the freedom of the spring getaway,

The luxurious setting,

And the beautiful nap that you have earned.

The rain continues to fall and you drift into a dream-filled afternoon.

The dreams are vivid and memorable,

The kind that come when you rest in a new place and feel safe.

And when you look back on this spring getaway,

You will recall the impressions your dreams left on you as much as you remember the coziness and charm of the heart house bed and breakfast.

Some months later,

You return to the Thousand Islands aboard a water taxi to a private island where you booked a rustic cottage for the weekend.

The warmth of summer intensifies the perfume of the St.

Lawrence River,

The sweetness of pine trees,

And the fragrance of campfires from an island campground across the river.

The taxi drops you off at a white dock that creaks with the current.

The weathered paint peels away from the boards beneath your feet and reminds you of the papery bark of white birch trees.

A cool breeze off the river slices through the warm,

Humid air.

The island is no more than an acre,

And a century old cottage sits in a clearing between evergreen trees.

Buttercups and milk thistles dabble the earth with pops of yellow and reddish purple.

You travel light with a backpack that has your basic necessities and a bag of fresh groceries from a farmer's market.

The owner of the cottage keeps the kitchen stocked with the most basic essentials,

And a garden in the backyard offers fresh tomatoes,

Squash,

And herbs.

You arrive in time to enjoy a few hours in an Adirondack chair overlooking the river from a rocky beach,

Feeling your body become warm in the afternoon sun.

Neighboring islands host single homes,

And while you enjoy the solitude,

From the south side of the beach you observe a family swimming off a river dock.

You never feel completely alone,

Even having an island to yourself.

At sunset you raise a summery beverage to the adults on the opposite island,

And they toast the air along with you.

The fiery magenta sun casts the verdant islands in opulent light,

The color of molten lava.

Your mind is quiet,

And you are so invested in the natural beauty around you that you could easily spend the day watching the change in colors and light from the quiet island,

Not being bored once.

You enjoy a meal on the wooden deck that wraps around the cottage with views of water from all sides of the modest home.

At twilight you journal beneath the twinkling mason jar lights strung across the porch.

You fill the pages with your handwriting and gratitude for the ease of this day.

It's quite unlike your spring journey to Wellesley,

And you find yourself enjoying the opportunities summer brings.

You hear a sound,

A flapping and a cry from an animal overhead that echoes across the water.

The sound is prehistoric,

And as your eyes follow the screech,

You see a bald headed eagle in flight over the island.

The expanse of its wings and the size of its head surprises you.

From feather to feather,

The bird's wingspan is more than a half meter longer than your height.

You watch the silhouette of the eagle's wings as it soars over the rippling river as nightfall sets in.

The bird is indigenous to North America,

And for centuries encountering one in the wild was considered a spiritual sign to be courageous and stretch your limits.

Your heart feels warm and open as your chest expands towards the sky,

And you inhale the tepid evening air.

You imagine what it would feel like to glide across the sky and tackle each new day with the grace and courage of an eagle.

This magical moment will stay with you for a long time.

You return to the cottage to dress in a warm hoodie and gather matches and a fire starter.

You gather a few pieces of tinder and logs from a bin on the deck.

Fireflies hover above tall blades of grass and a carpet of rusty orange pine needles.

You walk to the back of the cottage to the fire pit and ignite the fire starter,

Gradually adding tinder and a log to the fire.

You settle into a canvas camping chair that hugs your back.

The sounds of children laughing as they run along the beach of a neighboring camp,

Travel across the river.

Golden sparklers flash and illuminate their tiny silhouettes.

You make out a half dozen islands in the distance from the amber light of campfires that aromatize the summer night with the smell of wood smoke.

You watch the flames dance and flicker and slowly burn down into embers.

Feeling lost in the beauty of the night and sure of how late it is,

You feel lost in time,

A feeling that keeps happening on the thousand islands.

And you enjoy it immensely.

When tiredness takes over,

You return to the cottage and note the few campfires that continue to glow and reflect on the river.

You enter the cottage and it smells of old wooden beams and fresh strawberries sitting in a basket on the table.

Moonlight pours through four-paned windows with gray trim and illuminates your path to the bedroom.

Sheer lace curtains cover the bedroom windows that overlook the dock.

Slowly silver light reflects on the silky water and sparkles like a thousand stars made for wishing.

But at this moment,

On this perfect summer night,

You feel short of wishes beyond one.

That this experience could last forever.

You change into your pajamas and focus on a watercolor painting that hangs over a white antique wrought iron bed.

The painting depicts a full moon shining over the island and reflecting on the St.

Lawrence.

No matter where someone exists in time,

The experience of taking in the full moon on the river as it casts the forested islands in shimmering light is a magical experience felt by all.

You climb into the antique bed and settle beneath a marine blue coverlet and crisp cotton sheets.

The linen smell of fresh laundry dried in the summer sun,

Hanging on a clothesline.

You drift asleep,

Grateful and lulled by the sounds of the river lapping against the rocks.

You return to a thousand islands in the fall for peak apple picking season.

You arrive early in the morning to enjoy a cruise around the islands.

The boat is at half capacity,

A pleasant way for it to be after a busy summer season.

The season of autumn comes in like a sigh.

The crisp morning chill lingers on the gauzy mist that covers the waterway.

Jewel toned foliage reflects on the river in hues of topaz,

Magenta,

Blazing orange,

Yellow and plum.

The air smells of sweet decaying leaves.

The damp earth smells of tobacco and pine.

And the river smells flinty.

All of these aromas come together on the breeze and hover in the mist.

For an hour the cruise weaves between islands and you admire the rustic cabins,

The ostentatious cottages and the bold castle on Heart Island.

The rich hues of autumn complement the six story Rhineland Castle and drawbridge more than any other season.

A red sandstone tower contrasts the clear blue sky.

The tower is constructed of stones locally quarried from the riverbank and once housed a bowling alley and recreational activities enjoyed by the Bolt family.

No expense was spared as Mr.

Bolt built the 120 room castle for his beloved.

But upon her untimely death he halted construction and never returned.

His heart was broken and he could not imagine a life in the dream castle without her.

As you learn of the story you connect with this universal message.

That all the material possessions in the world cannot replace the deepest human connections.

And so many decades later the castle was finished and parts of it restored to its current splendor.

The story leaves an impression on your afternoon spent in the apple orchards picking apples and focusing on simple pleasures.

The air smells of the juices of Golden Delicious,

Empire and Macintosh apples.

You walk through pumpkin patches as children make their selections for Halloween.

As you approach a red barn that serves as the cider mill the fermented aroma of pressed apples layers the air with the smells of fresh bales of hay.

The honeyed afternoon light slips through your fingers like time.

You explore golden fields where chocolate brown furry cows roam and a yellow lab and Australian shepherd run circles around them at sunset.

You watch the sunset over the St.

Lawrence from an orchard hilltop and revel in the tapestry of peak fall foliage.

Rest in a warm fuzzy sweater.

You hug your arms around your torso as the chill of night sets in.

The peppery and sweet smell of smoke travels through chimneys from centuries old wood stoves to create squiggly black smoke trails across the orange and raspberry sherbet-hued skies.

You return to the cozy blue guest house and sit in a wooden rocking chair on the white porch.

You rock away all concerns and savor the temperature of the air as you inhale and exhale.

You close your eyes and imagine all the wisdom these islands and nature can offer you.

You open your eyes and realize this may be your favorite view of the thousand islands yet.

Cast in the glossy gilded glow of an autumn sunset,

Time continues to slip through your hands.

And you stay until the sky turns into a velvety purple-black canvas for the stars and crescent moon to shine.

Feeling quite tired,

You rise from the rocking chair and settle in the guest house.

Its interior is rustic,

The walls are made of shiplap,

And most items contained are made of cast iron,

Ceramic,

And wood,

Materials that withstand the test of time.

On this autumn night,

You sleep with ease.

The slightly cracked windows offer the perfect temperature for slumber,

Refreshing the air of the warm bungalow.

Your body is warm,

Relaxed,

And comfortably tucked beneath a heavy patchwork quilt.

Each new memory in this landscape makes you feel more grateful for the magic of the thousand islands.

Even though the stay is brief,

You know you will soon return.

Winter arrives early in this part of North America,

And the first snowfall occurs days after Halloween celebrations.

The St.

Lawrence River freezes each year,

And passage becomes difficult by boat,

If not impossible.

You arrive in Clayton during the holiday season,

As Christmas lights adorn cottages and white picket fences of the historic harbor town.

Light flurries fall as you walk along the harbor and listen to the crackling of small pieces of ice that float across the river.

March steeples rise as high as the skeleton branches of barren trees,

Strung with sapphire and white fairy lights.

At nightfall,

The annual Christmas parade begins downtown.

Fire trucks adorned with metallic blue icicle lights slowly make their way through crowds of children bundled in winter parkas and fuzzy hats.

Locals dressed as elves ride on the trucks,

Decked out with glowing snowmen,

Reindeer,

And illuminated candy canes in this wintry parade of lights.

You stand behind the crowds and inhale the frigid air.

Beautiful for your scarf and the faux fur ear flaps of a hat you bought in the village.

Colorful lights cascade like glowing nets over nearly every vehicle in the parade.

Santa and Mrs.

Claus ride on the final float,

And children clamor around them,

Eager to catch candy canes and the promise of more holiday splendor come Christmas morning.

The parade ends and the crowds disperse and gather around a stage in the heart of the village,

Where a band plays popular holiday songs.

You meander towards the water as the snow falls harder and begins to accumulate.

You walk to the Harbor Hotel,

Which is decked out with boughs of holly and twinkling ivory lights.

A fire casts the snow in amber light from a fire pit surrounded by guests,

Daring to stay outside on this cold,

Snowy night.

You enter the warm lobby and encounter a Christmas tree overflowing with metallic tinsel,

A rainbow of holiday lights,

And sparkling ornaments the size of grapefruit.

A few guests in holiday sweaters gather around a stone fireplace,

Sipping warm beverages as instrumental holiday music plays.

You settle in an armchair and make polite conversation with fellow travelers,

Who rave about the magic of the Thousand Islands,

And suggest the best breakfast options come morning.

The camaraderie makes you feel part of something bigger as you recognize you're not the only one who has had such life-changing experiences in this special place.

You savor the smells of hot chocolate,

Burning wood,

Balsam fir,

And cinnamon sticks.

Laughter and joyous conversation fill the lobby with a musicality that lulls you into a peaceful state.

You need not make out the words to feel connected to everyone at this inn.

The day catches up with you and you start to feel tired and return to the Admiral Suite that overlooks the harbor.

You peer out at the snowy night and cannot tell where the river ends and islands begin.

In a few weeks time,

The river will freeze,

And snowmobiles will venture across the ice.

This magical region showcases the adaptability of humans when they are in tune with Mother Nature and make the most of each season.

This idea of surrendering to her powers offers romanticism and hope as you prepare for bed.

You settle into the king-sized bed and snuggle beneath the downy comforter.

Your body carries the memory of the cold,

And so you revel in the comforts and softness of the bed all the more as you drift toward sleep.

You glide across the bridge to your sleeping life,

Surrendering,

Letting go,

And welcoming the deep peace that waits for you in the night.

Finding rest,

Finding respite,

Finding solace,

Finding sleep,

It's time to dream away.

Good night.

Reviews

What I heard of this was wonderful! Out like a light! Thank you and bless you.💞🌟

Excellent! Highly recommend Michelle’s bedtime stories! Interesting, yet lull you to sleep. Thank you!🙏🙏 🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Just dreamy 🛌🥱thank you for another amazing snoozer 💜💙⭐️✨much love Michelle 🙏🏻

Loved this!!! Instantly fell asleep. Thanks tons!!!

1000 island are Just a few hours away from me….. loved the 4 seasons but I must listen again as I fell asleep for 2 of them! Lol , thanks Michelle

So beautiful!!! Couldn’t stay awake for thh whole story, but what I heard was so magical and sparkly!!! You are my absolute favorite!!’ Thank you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏🏻☝️ Namesta 😘

Another master piece .Works like a charm .❤️❤️❤️

Four years ago I went to the 1000 Islands, enjoyed a sightseeing boat cruise and visited Boldt Castle. What a fascinating landscape of Islands! I was so excited to return with this newest story of yours! The four seasons there... great! Thank you, Michelle! 🙏❤😴💫

Listening to you tell the sleep stories always puts me to sleep. 🙏