Secret Garden Of Time: Fall Asleep At The Witches' Cottage

On the first night of spring, you are welcomed back to The Witches’ Cottage in Secret Garden of Time, slipping through the veil of time. Beneath the moon’s silver gaze, you’ll follow a hidden path to a sacred garden, planting seeds of hope and transformation as the three sisters have done for centuries. Then, back in the warmth of the cottage, you’ll curl up in a cozy alcove, drifting to sleep as candlelight flickers and a cat purrs at your feet. It’s time to dream away.

Transcript

For nine years,

Michelle's Sanctuary has been a refuge from the demands of life and a place where you can drift on the magic of a sleep story.

I am happy to offer this place of calm and want to thank you for getting comfy with me at the end of the day.

If you haven't already,

I invite you to subscribe should you fall asleep before the story's end,

So you can make your way back in the future.

And if you have a chance,

Leave a comment or request,

As your participation is what helps my sleepy tales to be shared with new listeners.

Settle and get comfy,

Because this bedtime story is about to take us on an enchanting journey.

In tonight's sleep story,

You are invited into a mystical and healing garden in a timeless realm few have ever glimpsed.

You're listening to The Secret Garden of Time,

Part of the Witch's Cottage series.

This magical bedtime escape is set deep within an ancient forest where three wise and compassionate witches have been tending to the world's quietest magic for centuries.

Through a winding path known only to them,

You encounter a sacred moonlit garden untouched by the chaos of humankind.

The lustrous blooms and twisting vines tell stories throughout history,

Markers of kind spells and loving intentions for the planet.

Every plant safeguards the memory of turning points when darkness loomed,

Yet hope quietly flourished.

As you plant three seeds,

One for yourself,

One for those you love,

And one for the world,

You reclaim your power and connect with the loving kindness and softness of this life.

You return to the familiar Witch's Cottage and drift into a deep,

Healing sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary,

Where you are free to release the weight of the day and drift into a dream-woven world that we will craft together.

I'm Michelle,

Your guide on this enchanting voyage.

Think of my voice as that of a kindred spirit and longtime friend,

Here to help you remember that you are magic.

The sacred time for rest is yours alone,

A moment to reclaim peace from the chaos of the waking world.

Let these words wrap around you like a spell of tender self-love inviting you to surrender to rest and renewal.

Fall asleep whenever you desire and shape this journey to suit your heart's deepest longings for peace and healing.

Shift your attention to your breath,

Letting it slow and deepen.

Open your mouth and sigh,

Releasing any lingering energy from the day.

Breathe in deeply,

Imagining a crisp nocturnal breeze entering your room,

Imbued with the aromas of early spring,

Scented with blossoms and damp earth.

Each cleansing inhalation brings the promise of renewal as your mind becomes a clean slate.

Yawn if you like,

Then sigh audibly,

Imagining tension like the rising steam of a cauldron joining the enchanting night air.

Continue this pattern of breath in a way that feels best.

Everything is customizable and I will count you down,

Guiding you to deeper relaxation.

A sense of safety will help stir your imagination as you conjure beauty around you.

5.

Feel yourself stepping into the hush of twilight where the veil between worlds is thin and magic lingers in the air like the scent of blooming jasmine.

4.

The whisper of wind through budding branches reminds you that change comes gently,

Just as spring melts winter's grip with warm rays of sunlight.

3.

A golden glow flickers ahead,

A candlelit cottage nestled in the woods where three nurturing sisters await your arrival.

2.

As you become still enough,

You can hear the energy of awakening,

Of seeds stirring in the soil where kind intentions take root in sacred ground.

1.

A last round of conscious breathing makes you feel safe and held by this soft,

Comforting moment.

Your breath eases into a delicate,

Dreamy rhythm.

It's time for the story to begin.

1.

Ostara marks the balance of light and darkness,

The turning of the wheel when life stirs beneath the soil and breaks through the surface to meet the sun.

No matter how wild the world may feel,

The earth follows its ancient rhythms,

Casting the world with a spirit of renewal.

Shimmering dew-laden blossoms and the trickling fresh water from a recently thawed stream remind us that no season lasts forever.

Change and a fresh start are always within reach and tend to arrive just in time.

2.

As you find yourself back in the enchanted forest that leads to the witch's cottage,

Now cloaked in the soothing blues and shadowy grays of early evening,

The Red Fox stands waiting for you outside his den.

With a playful smirk,

He always seems to have a revealing countenance that is part wise and part mischievous.

He nods toward the concealed opening to the den.

You take it as an invitation and approach,

Noticing his mate curling around four young pups in a maternal snuggle.

The nights are still crisp and cool once the sun slips beyond the budding white birch trees.

The fairies are all out,

Singing songs with sweet melodies and critical complaints of how winter lasted a bit too long for their liking.

One of the fairies flutters around you with a smile,

Her lavender wings shimmering as if dusted with moondust.

She tells you of a frozen night in January,

Where her delicate wings were coated in ice,

Leaving her unable to fly.

The witches found her and carried her to their cottage,

Where they fashioned a tiny rattan swing by the hearth,

Allowing her to warm by the fire until she was whole again.

Her story is yet another testament to the witch's boundless compassion for every being in the enchanted forest and beyond.

You sense it has been a long,

Brutal winter,

Making the sweet pleasures of spring all the more welcome and appreciated.

The earth is soggy and soft beneath the soles of your boots as you follow the familiar trail to the cottage.

The witches aren't quite expecting you,

Though their intuition is always on point,

And you are always welcome to traverse through time and space to meet them in their healing realm.

The path before you glows beneath the rising moon,

Dappled with the soft,

Bioluminescent flickers of glowworms nestled in the mossy undergrowth.

The air is rich with the scent of damp earth,

Of budding blossoms awakening to the season's call,

Of fresh rain that had passed through earlier and left a few tiny streams and puddles in its wake.

The cool night air brushes against your cheeks as you move deeper into the enchanted forest,

Your breath rising in soft clouds that drift and dissolve in the silvery light.

The gentle trickling of a nearby stream catches your ear,

Its waters are glassy and dark beneath the moon's gaze.

The fox,

Its fur like burnished copper in the night,

Pauses at the bank,

Lapping at the cool water with careful precision.

His side-eye stare catches your attention for a fleeting moment with an unspoken invitation to join him.

You dip your fingers into the cool stream,

Washing it over your face in what feels like a fresh start.

The water is piercingly chilly,

But in a way that makes you feel blissfully alive and present.

The fox finishes lapping,

Flicks his tail,

And continues on,

The patter of his quick footsteps guiding you forward.

The scent of juniper and pine grows stronger as the trees open up,

Revealing a clearing bathed in moonlight.

The witch's cottage stands just beyond a fence of wood that twists like licorice sticks,

Its juniper log walls glowing with a silvery eggplant hue.

A candle flickers in each window,

Golden hopeful flames whispering promises of warmth and solace.

You step forward,

Reaching for the gate,

Its old wooden frame groaning as you push it open.

The fox,

Ever your guide,

Lingers for just a moment before darting into the woods,

Vanishing into the darkness as he always does.

A soft meow stirs from beneath the planks of the porch,

As yellow-green eyes glisten in the shadows.

With a playful pounce,

The sleek tortoiseshell cat you named seasons ago is now strong and in her prime as she reveals herself.

She purrs with recognition,

Welcoming you by pressing her furry body against your legs.

You kneel down,

And her nose touches yours in a delicate kiss as you run your fingers through her fur.

Her coat still has the same velvety softness you remember from years ago.

Her tail flicks once before she darts up the porch steps,

Leading you to the door.

The door creaks open before you even raise your hand to knock,

And golden light spills outward,

Landing on you like a spotlight.

The scent of burning cedar and dried lavender rushes to greet you,

Mingling with something spiced and savory lingering in the air.

Cora and Ava stand just beyond the threshold,

Their eyes warm but unreadable.

For the first time,

They are not adorned in corseted gowns or flowing velvet cloaks.

Instead,

They wear tailored overalls in rich satin and deep velvet,

Sturdy black boots laced high up their calves.

The sight is unexpected,

And you are curious about what the witches are up to.

There's a hesitation,

A subtle shift in the air that you can't quite name.

Cora offers a small smile,

But says nothing.

Ava leans against a tufted velvet armchair,

Her fingers lightly tracing the edge of a steaming teacup,

Watching you with quiet curiosity.

Then Carla enters,

And the energy changes.

She sweeps forward,

Her presence as commanding as a seasoned performer taking a Broadway stage,

Her smile big and unwavering.

You've arrived at an unusual time,

She says,

Her voice rich with intrigue.

A time that has never been shared with humankind,

Though it has always been devoted to humankind's well-being.

She gestures for you to sit,

And as you settle into the worn velvet upholstered chair by the hearth,

She meets your gaze with knowing eyes.

Tell me,

How has life been,

She asks.

The invitation is genuine,

And as you exhale,

You realize how much you need this space.

Here,

Within these walls,

No burden is too heavy,

No truth too sharp.

You speak,

And as the words leave your lips,

Cora and Ava listen with quiet reverence,

Their expressions empathetic and brimming with maternal love.

They lean in slightly,

Absorbing every word,

Every sigh,

Every hesitation.

You speak of the world,

The uncertainty,

The relentless pull of forces beyond your control.

You speak of your own heart,

The fears you have carried,

The exhaustion that lingers in your bones,

The anxiety that you just cannot shake.

And when you finish,

The silence that follows is not empty,

But full.

A space held just for you.

Carla nods.

We have heard many stories,

She says,

And while we may not always have solutions,

We are never afraid to seek them.

Ava rises,

Then,

Moving toward the long wooden table near the hearth.

Upon it,

Small velvet satchels in jewel-toned hues are neatly arranged,

Their delicate drawstrings barely holding the treasures inside.

She lifts one,

Pressing it into your palm.

Tonight we plant with intention,

She murmurs.

One for yourself,

One for loved ones,

One for the world.

Cora chuckles softly as she selects her own satchel,

Brushing a hand over the deep purple fabric.

Carla has been feeding the soil with good intentions for centuries,

She says,

Glancing toward her older sister.

She swears the earth itself remembers.

Carla grins,

The candlelight catching the gold in her eyes.

And it does,

She insists.

Through every great challenge,

Whether wrought by nature or rulers,

I have sown hope into the soil,

And it has never failed to bloom,

And it keeps blooming long after the storms have passed.

Your hands tighten around the satchel,

And you thread its silky ribbon enclosure through your fingers.

The weight of the seeds and bulbs inside grounds you.

As the cat is out of the bag,

Thanks to Carla,

The eldest of the sisters,

Cora and Ava are suddenly excited to bring you outside.

Beneath the star-dappled sky,

A secret garden awaits.

One that has thrived in silence,

Nourished by the sisters' loving hands,

Who refuse to surrender to despair.

And tonight,

You will become a part of it,

Sowing your own hopes into the freshly thawed earth,

Ensuring that even in the most uncertain of times,

Beauty will rise again.

Ava leads you to a small wooden wardrobe,

Its doors carved with twisting vines and tiny embossed flowers.

She pulls out a set of black velvet overalls with deep ruby accents,

The color of love and protection.

You step behind a velvet curtain and change.

As you slip them on,

You notice something stitched inside the inner flap.

Your name,

Embroidered in delicate silver thread by Carla.

The detail fills you with warmth,

A quiet acknowledgement that you belong here.

That somehow,

She knew you might need a little healing yourself in the secret garden.

They trust you,

They see your good intentions and have embraced you as one of their own.

The witches wait patiently beneath the moon's watchful glow,

Their shovels and hoes sparkling as if kissed by the stars themselves.

Even their tools glimmer with enchantment,

Their handles are worn smooth by years of tending to the sacred place.

Their overalls,

Accented with satin sashes,

Catch the night air.

Carla's in emerald green,

Cora's in deep purple,

Ava's in brilliant sapphire.

You,

In your ruby attire,

Feel wrapped in their protection as they carry torches that flicker like the fairies of the white birch forest.

The flames illuminate their faces,

Their expressions calm and certain,

Filled with a wisdom that stretches beyond lifetimes.

The path ahead is a secret,

More concealed than the fox's den.

The mossy forest floor glistens with a coating of night dew,

Twinkling like tiny moonstones spread across the ground.

The torches cast orange-gold ribbons of light that move like elegant fingers across the ancient tree trunks.

You follow the witches deeper into the woods.

The scent of damp earth and blooming jasmine thickens in the cool air.

Soon the path narrows,

Leading you into a cavern where crystals line the walls,

Refracting the torchlight like prismatic sun catchers.

Shades of violet,

Sapphire,

And amber swirl in shifting patterns,

Casting fleeting shadows that seem almost alive.

You hear every step on the stone beneath you as it echoes with the breaths of you and the witches.

The vibrations within this cavern offer a sense of peace that goes bone deep.

You step carefully,

The crystalline glow illuminating the passage until it opens into a breathtaking clearing on the other side.

Here,

In the heart of the forest,

Just beyond the crystal caverns,

Is the witches' sacred garden.

The clearing pulses with an energy unlike anything you've ever known.

Blooms of every shape and hue sway in the night air,

Each one planted in times of hardship,

War,

And change.

Each one a testament to resilience.

Roses first planted during an age of revolution spill over their trellises.

Violets and crocuses placed in the earth during moments of uncertainty peek from beneath lush ferns.

Clusters of lilies,

Planted with hope during times of mourning,

Stand proud and tall.

There are blossoms here that have no name,

Their petals shifting color,

As if responding to unseen forces.

Some flowers seem to glow from within,

Their bioluminescent shimmer casting a soft radiance over the dark soil.

The scent is intoxicating.

Sweet jasmine,

Damp earth,

A tangy floral hint of something almost otherworldly.

Carla steps forward,

Her eyes alight with wisdom.

Whenever the world feels out of control,

We must remember we are responsible for our own light.

No force can diminish its power,

And even in the darkest times,

One soul shining brightly can illuminate the way for others.

The luscious flowers stand as proof that even in the chaos,

Life finds a way.

As you plant and tend,

In time the earth returns such care with beauty and abundance.

The witches guide you to a spot where the earth is rich and ready.

The soil is cool and damp beneath your fingertips.

You let your palms sit on the earth for a few seconds,

Grounding yourself and feeling waves of healing flowing through you.

You visualize this earth being transformed by this moment,

By a choice made by you.

Cora hands you a single bulb,

Her slender fingers cool yet soft.

She explains you must plant this for yourself.

You must always take care of your needs so you have the ability to help others.

You plant the bulb,

And set your intentions for all that you wish to become,

And all that you wish to remain.

You kneel,

Pressing the bulb deep into the damp,

Crumbling dirt.

You have a childlike wonder and appreciation that something so unassuming can blossom into something beautiful.

You gently drop handfuls of earth over it.

You let them sift through your fingers.

The moonlit soil seems to fall in suspended animation,

As if time bends and slows around you.

You take all the time you can to imagine positive moments to come for yourself.

And when you rise and brush the dirt off your hands,

Eva helps to remove a small handful of seeds from your satchel.

Resting like tiny stars against your skin.

She explains that these are for those you love,

And you may scatter them with your wishes for their joy and protection.

The seeds slip through your fingers,

Landing gently upon the soil.

Before you press them into their new home with your thumbs,

Envisioning the faces of those you hold dear.

You whisper their names,

Feeling the silent understanding of the witches beside you.

And lastly,

Carla steps forward,

Placing a collection of bulbs in your hands,

The last remaining in your satchel.

These are for the world.

For every soul longing for peace,

For change,

For something beyond what they know.

Your intention is a spark,

One that will catch and spread,

Uniting the kindred spirits who dream of a better tomorrow.

As you bury them in the earth,

The witches remain silent,

Their presence steady and strong.

The only sound is the rustling of the wind through budding branches,

And the rhythmic beat of your heart.

The fox arrives silently,

Standing at the edge of the garden,

As his fiery coat gleams in the torchlight.

He watches for a moment,

His eyes sparkle with a knowing.

No words are needed for him to understand,

That your intentions for the world include him and his young pack.

The witches tend to their garden,

Quietly singing a song that is familiar and foreign at the same time.

You sit on a stone bench,

Watching them plant their seeds,

Their long tendrils of curly hair undulating in the spring breeze.

An owl hoots in the distance,

And with its call,

The fox takes off into the forest.

Once done planting and casting their loving spell,

The witches sit beside you,

And you all hold one another's dirt-kissed hands,

Staring out at the fertile earth with a sense of trust,

Love,

And appreciation as you sigh in unison.

The journey back to the cottage is quiet,

The air filled with the sounds of the forest.

The moon hangs high,

A silver guardian watching over you,

Its enchantress smiling down upon you.

As you step onto the porch,

The sweet tortoiseshell cat reappears,

Inviting you to pick her up as you follow the witches into the cottage.

Inside,

The hearth crackles with warmth,

And you take turns washing your hands with warm,

Wet towels that smell of eucalyptus.

The witches usher you to a chair by the fire,

Offering a steaming cup of sleepy tea and a savory pastry.

You sip slowly,

Your body still thrumming with the energy of the garden and spring solstice.

As the flames dance along the soot-streaked walls,

Shadows shift and the light shimmers.

Visions of your intentions play out like a movie in the flames,

Whispering of possibilities yet to come.

You watch,

Mesmerized,

As images flicker,

New life unfurling,

Kindness spreading,

Hope rekindling in places long abandoned to despair.

A lump rises in your throat at the sheer beauty of what could be.

And this very vision is all that is needed to change a part of the world.

Carla rises first,

Stretching with an air of satisfaction.

Come,

She says,

A bath has been drawn for you.

In the small alcove above the main room where you often stay,

A clawfoot tub waits,

Steam curling from its surface.

The water is perfumed with floating lavender and rose petals.

A shelf made of twisted vines drapes around the sill of the tub,

Holding an assortment of oils,

Scrubs,

And soaps.

The witches wish you a good night,

Thanking you for being trustworthy enough to share their secret garden with.

You slip into the silky warm water,

As it dissolves every last trace of tension from your limbs and cleans away any lingering garden soil.

The world outside fades,

Reduced to the gentle lap of water and the distant crackling of the fire.

A soft thud at the doorway draws your attention.

The tortoiseshell cat has followed,

Her yellow-green eyes heavy with contentment.

She waits patiently,

Keeping the bathmat warm.

When you step out of the tub,

Your body softened by warmth and tranquility.

You wrap yourself in a warm towel.

The cat leads you back to the sleeping alcove,

Where fresh,

Crisp cotton pajamas are folded and sit at the end of the bed.

The quilt is heavy,

Stitched with care,

And as you slide beneath it,

The candle on the windowsill flickers,

A beacon of protection and hope.

The cat curls up at your feet,

Her rhythmic purring a soothing sound that guides you into the deepest,

Most restful sleep.

And outside,

In the secret garden,

The seeds of hope and purest intentions take root beneath the moonlit sky,

Just waiting for their time to bloom.

And as you wait along with positive intentions,

Your dreamscape reveals these beautiful ideas becoming a reality as you surrender to slumber.

And as you surrender,

Finding peace,

Finding magic,

Finding hope.

It's time to dream away.

Good night.

Reviews

Michelle, I absolutely loved this new witches story! The cottage & secret garden aspects were beautifully detailed with all the familiar characters. I put the track on repeat & of course fell asleep quickly & missed all the best parts! This morning, I played it again so I could fully enjoy the fox, 🦊 cat, 🐈 & of course the three witches whose craft is to bring hope in times is strife. It is so true that Hope always shines through admidst the darkness. With self love & self care we can be there for our family & friends. I truly appreciate your gift of these inspirational stories! Thank you! 🙏 🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

I love the witches stories & finally heard the end after listening for the third time. Thank you, Michelle.

So great! Your meditation stories are fascinating and easy to relax and fall a sleep.

I love the witches although I never hear the end of the story

I absolutely love the friendly witch’s cottage stories and was so happy to see a new one for Spring. 🩷💕 I didn’t stay awake long enough to hear most of it; my little fox friends in their cosy den sent me right off to dreamland. So I look forward to listening again, and again. Thank you, Michelle!! 🙏🏼💖🧙🏼‍♀️🧙🏼‍♀️💖

Love the three witches series, so was very excited about this new one. I can’t seem to stay awake. Have put it on six times, yet have no idea what comes after the greeting of the fox. And…congratulations on the nine years! That is awesome🙏🏻🌟🎇🌟🎆🌟🙏🏻

The Witch’s Cottage stories are my favorite stories on Insight Timer! So happy to have another one! ✨

Very peaceful and soothing glad to be back in the witches cottage but sadly as always I didn’t hear the end as was asleep buts as an regular walker I will listen to it again. Thank you x