Spring Ball At The Castle: Healing Sleepy Journey

Drift into deep, restorative sleep with "Spring Ball at the Castle," an immersive bedtime story for grown-ups. Journey to an ancient castle nestled deep within an ancient forest. As you listen, you'll be transported to a dazzling celebration featuring a rare night-blooming flower that unfurls its iridescent petals only for this special occasion.

Explore the castle's enchanting grounds, from the vibrant butterfly conservatory filled with flitting wings to the tranquil hummingbird sanctuary buzzing with delicate life. This cozy bedtime story offers a peaceful escape, guiding you through a world of bluebell-carpeted hills, wisteria-draped chandeliers, and the soothing sounds of spring.

Find your calm, embrace deep relaxation, and let your imagination bloom before you fall asleep. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Fall asleep fast with a sleep story for grown-ups.

You're listening to Spring Ball at the Castle,

A relaxing bedtime story set deep within an ancient forest.

Journey through rolling hills,

Carpeted in a seemingly endless expanse of vibrant bluebells,

To arrive at a timeless celebration held within a centuries-old castle nestled among cherry blossoms in bloom.

As twilight descends,

The first notes of music drift from an outdoor dance floor,

Exquisitely draped with thousands of twinkling fairy lights,

While above fragrant pale purple wisteria drapes around pristine white chandeliers.

The spirit of spring is celebrated as a rare night-blooming flower begins to unfurl in a luminous spectacle reserved solely for this first soiree of spring.

Waves of joy and fulfillment lead you down the stone halls of the castle,

Your heart alight as you carry the magic of the awakening forest and garden back to your chambers.

Moonlight filters through the cherry blossoms,

The hopeful light helping you fall into the most enchanting restorative sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle and you may think of me as a longtime friend and personal sleep ally.

I'm here to guide you into the world of your soothing imagination.

My voice only brings us to serene places.

Celebrate making it through another day as you sink into your bed and release your ties to the day as we approach the bridge to sleep.

In this time for self-comfort,

Let the feeling of calm and well-being be your only focus now.

Feel free to adjust the details of the story in your mind,

Making it uniquely yours.

You are the expert on what soothes you and at any moment,

Release my voice and drift into sleep knowing that your subconscious can continue this mesmerizing journey through starlit gardens and ancient castle walls.

Let out a generous audible sigh,

Casting away any thoughts that dare to interfere with this nightly escape to springtime enchantment.

When you're ready,

Sip in the night air like a dreamy tonic,

Inhaling through your nose and then release with a sigh.

I am going to count us down.

You may continue to inhale,

Maybe yawn and sigh at your preferred pace.

This relaxation exercise will prepare our senses for the elegant embrace of the castle in full spring bloom.

With each descending number,

Allow yourself to sink deeper into comfort,

Clearing your mind for a night of delightful dreams.

Five,

Let your mind settle on the image of sunlight filtering through budding trees,

Casting a golden glow on ancient castle walls draped with fresh green ivy.

Release any tension held in your forehead or around your temples as they begin to soften.

Four,

Tune into the calming sounds,

The gentle chorus of birdsong welcoming the spring morning and the faint comforting melody of a distant harp.

Feel the muscles of your jaw relax,

Your lips softly parting,

Releasing any tightness you may be holding.

Three,

Become aware of the comforting physical sensations,

The weight of your body sinking into your bed,

The soft embrace of your covers,

The imagined warmth of sunlight on your skin.

Allow your shoulders to drop,

Feeling any lingering tension in your neck and shoulders melt away.

Two,

Imagine the aroma of blooming wisteria and cherry blossoms carried on a soft breeze through open castle windows.

Notice the gentle rise and fall of your chest and abdomen,

Feeling your breath soften and become effortless.

One,

And finally allow yourself to fully embrace one profound feeling,

A deep sense of peace,

A quiet anticipation of belonging within the springtime celebration.

Allow your arms and legs to grow heavy,

Feeling a wave of relaxation spread through your entire being.

As you begin to drift towards the spring ball at the castle,

It's time for the story to begin.

Oscar Wilde expressed,

A flower blossoms for its own joy.

You've been dreaming of this night for weeks,

Ever since the ornate envelope first arrived.

Sealed with a pressed forget-me-not beneath translucent wax,

The fragrant stationery felt as luxurious and soft beneath your fingertips as percale sheets dried in the Sun,

Imbued with the essence of spring fields.

You almost didn't want to open it,

Wishing to preserve the perfect wax stamp,

As you wondered why we would ever abandon such lovely invitations in favor of electronic messages.

The invitation to the spring ball at the Moonbloom Castle shimmered faintly with an opal sheen and silver leaf.

Flourished calligraphy,

Promised enchantment under the full moon,

With ivy-covered stone walls and blooming gardens.

The edges of the invitation featured small crushed petals in the paper fibers,

And a playful reminder from Ralph Waldo Emerson,

The earth laughs in flowers.

The invitation set the tone for all expectations.

This night would be playful and whimsical,

Honoring the joys of spring.

An elegant script it read,

You are cordially invited to the spring ball at the Moonbloom Castle,

A celebration of renewal,

Joy,

And the full moon.

Your presence is eagerly awaited beneath the wisteria-laced chandeliers and starry sky.

Each year,

All guests gather to witness a night-blooming flower that only unfurls its petals at this spring soiree.

Tucked within an ancient forest where the passage of time is unfelt,

And the soul of the woodlands carries the same air of mystery and wonder,

Moonbloom Castle has stood for over eight centuries.

The castles' weathered stones and hidden corridors whisper legends of the past,

Of a noble queen who spoke to birds and grew roses even in the dead of winter,

Of candlelit feasts where troubadours sang beneath timbered ceilings,

And of centuries of ethereal queens and princesses who devoted their lives to preserving nature and tending to mystical gardens.

Moonbloom Castle has always been a place for healing and nurturing.

The woodlands around the area are reminiscent of Germany's Black Forest.

They were once a haven for mystics and stargazers who charted the heavens from the castle's observatory tower.

In medieval times,

The castle served as both a fortress and a sanctuary,

Protecting travelers from the darkness.

Its towers once rang with the peals of bells and the chants of starlit rituals.

Over time,

The forest grew around the castle,

Shrouding it in secrecy until it reawakened for nights such as this,

Giving you the rare chance to visit.

In modern day,

Moonbloom Castle serves as a haven for both animals and rare blooms,

And each year,

The ball brings attention to the mission of its caretakers.

Your anticipation rose every day since receiving the invitation,

And you so much look forward to spending the weekend following the ball,

Exploring the gardens,

And enjoying the getaway you so rightfully deserve.

Everyone arrives by carriage,

Taking an old path through the woods to conjure the sense of earlier days.

Your driver,

Dressed in a formal spring uniform,

Guides the wreath adorned carriage steadily onward.

Boughs of lilac and jasmine line the perimeter of the ivory roof,

Draping down and cascading on the breeze.

Tiny pale blue lights blink gently within the blossoms.

A silk jacquard blanket rests across your lap,

Featuring a delicate jewel-toned floral pattern.

You're already dressed for the ball,

As the carriage glides gently along a winding path through the forest in a procession of varying carriages,

Dressed with spring flowers and mesmerizing lights.

You wear your favorite spring colors,

Perhaps a gown that reminds you of new petals,

Or a suit in the shade of a fresh sky.

The fabrics feel soft and familiar against your skin,

And the details,

Be they embroidery,

Shimmer,

Or floral accents,

Reflect your own unique style.

The garments were tailored to fit like a glove,

Elegant yet offering the same comfort as your favorite loungewear.

A garland of blossoms circles your wrist,

And soft slippers,

In the hue of your choosing,

Cradle your feet comfortably.

Sensible shoes,

Per the invitation's insistence,

For a night of dancing and exploring within the castle gates.

The air is tepid and fragrant,

Kissed with a redolent rebirth of spring.

Sweet rich earth,

A freshwater stream,

And twin berry honeysuckle create a layered intoxicating perfume.

Sunlight filters through the canopy of silver fir,

Pine,

Oak,

And maple trees,

Scattering flecks and bands of golden light across your lap.

You rest comfortably on the velvet cushioned bench as the carriage bobs,

And the driver does his best to mind the exposed roots and bumps along the way.

A gentle breeze drifts in through the open windows,

Brushing your cheek with a slightest hint of an evening chill.

Conifers arch above the carriage like a curtain on a stage,

To reveal rolling meadows blanketed in spring flowers.

Seas of bluebells,

Golden poppies,

And blush pink primrose stretch to the horizon,

Touched by the last light of the day.

It's an otherworldly view,

A page from a storybook,

As everything glistens in the saturated light of golden hour.

Other carriages glide nearby in a quiet parade,

Their passengers adjusting floral crowns and gazing in awe at the unfolding scene.

Many of them,

Like you,

Are experiencing the Spring Bowl for the first time.

Moonbloom Castle soon rises into view,

Framed by the rose pink sky,

As slivers of clouds roll by in rich shades of plum and raspberry.

Turrets wrapped in climbing roses reach upward as the petals flutter in the sunset air.

The curving road is lined with blossoming dogwoods,

Their white petals drifting like confetti along the path as if to greet you.

As tradition demands,

Your carriage halts at the foot of the final hill,

Where guests disembark and walk the last stretch on foot,

Past bluebells and beneath the awakening canopy of young leaves and cherry blossoms.

Soft strains of a harp drift on the breeze as your feet land in the lush emerald grass and you walk through the meadow as the fiery Sun slips beyond the silhouette of trees behind you.

Already,

You feel part of a community of laughing and smiling guests who do their best to balance as they ascend the hill.

The routine hill ascension has been a way for guests to feel grounded and reminded of nature's presence.

You come upon a footbridge adorned with baby's breath and twinkling lights and cross over a stream that curls around the castle.

One by one,

You follow the guests approaching the grand entryway where a figure looms.

Bettina,

The host of the spring ball,

Stands luminous in the soft light.

Her waist-length silver hair falls straight as blades of grass,

Catching hints of flickering flames and her hair laced with starlight.

A crown of white hyacinths and blue hydrangeas rests atop her head.

Her gown,

Silvery blue,

Stitched with threads of fairy lights,

Shimmers like moonlit waves.

Tiny silver orbs glow as they weave along the skirt like a constellation.

She welcomes you with a warm embrace,

Her voice velvet soft and maternal.

Welcome,

Dear.

I'm so glad you made the journey here.

With a delicate gesture,

She pins a forget-me-not boutonniere to your costume and invites you in.

The castle's great hall is flooded with the golden light of hundreds of candles and the last stretches of magenta sunlight that slips through the towering arches of windows.

Tapestries of mythical creatures,

Dancing through spring fields and lush gardens,

Hang on the stone walls.

Soft tendrils of ivy drape down the stone.

Garlanded roses,

Blooming lilies,

And clusters of hyacinths trail along balconies and banisters.

There are more crystal vases of vibrant flowers than you've ever seen before.

Chandeliers shimmer above,

But they're softened with the cascades of trailing wisteria.

The air smells of citrus blossoms and honey.

A string quartet stands tucked in an ivy-covered alcove,

Playing a hopeful melody that echoes through the stone walls.

You grab a hibiscus spritz with floating rings of citrus served in a crystal flute and follow the other guests into the central courtyard where the ball unfolds beneath an open sky.

The sky deepens into bands of purple and blue as the first stars twinkle and lanterns flicker to life.

Glass orbs glowing warm gold suspended from trees and overhead arches.

The breeze stirs cherry blossoms,

Releasing their soft pink petals in the air as they land on the dance floor.

The movement of the guests mimics their grace as their gowns and jackets with floral embroidery and silken textures ripple and flow in the gentle winds.

A table of confections rests near the garden wall.

Candied violets,

Honeyed apricots,

Rose petal shortbread,

And crystalline strawberries.

Staff in soft pastel uniforms,

Pastries of lemon cordial,

Violet-infused water,

And sparkling elderflower fizz.

The ball is a gardener's dream for no bloom goes without attention and celebration.

Cordial conversations and fits of pure childlike laughter are joined by the melodic song of wind chimes strung throughout the gardens.

Some are made of glass and crystal,

Offering high notes,

While others are wide,

Tubular steel chimes that reverberate with a serious tone.

A covered pavilion shelters dancers,

Swirling to the festive songs of a swing band.

Beneath a marble archway,

Someone recites poetry about moonlight and plum trees.

Bettina passes now and then,

Greeting old and new friends,

Whispering reassurances,

Adjusting flower crowns,

Her presence a calming constant.

As night deepens,

Her hair takes on the sheen of moonlight and a halo seems to form around her as she gracefully ensures everyone is having the best time.

Beyond the main garden lies a butterfly conservatory,

And you follow a path of stones shaped to resemble lily pads.

The arched glass ceiling reflects the rising moon.

Inside,

The warm,

Humid air carries the fragrance of nectar and damp moss.

Lush plants,

Milkweed,

Verbena,

Bee balm,

Overflow from every pot and planter,

And Edison light bulbs are strung throughout the space.

Butterflies flit quietly,

Their wings catching the light.

Pale blue morphos,

Monarchs with velvet orange wings,

Glass wings so translucent they appear to float on air alone.

One lands briefly on your shoulder before vanishing like a passing thought.

Everyone moves slowly and with intention,

As if not to disrupt the butterfly's peace.

To one side of the conservatory is a gentle stream,

And along its banks,

Bettina waits,

With a net made of spun silk.

She kneels beside a cluster of purple coneflowers,

Guiding a young guest in releasing a butterfly newly emerged from its chrysalis.

Her voice is low and full of wonder.

Every transformation is quiet at first,

But we can't underestimate the miracles that happen in silence.

You watch the butterfly take off,

Its wings nearly the same shade of blue as Bettina's hopeful eyes.

She is the fourth generation of women who have tended to Moonbloom Castle,

Learning her role and purpose at a very young age.

You leave behind the warm,

Humid air of the conservatory and step out into the brisk night air.

To walk farther along a lantern-lit path,

Surrounded by topiary in the shape of birds.

The path leads you to the Hummingbird Sanctuary,

A glass-walled room tucked into one of the older wings of the castle.

It's warmer here as well,

Filled with the sound of fluttering wings and soft,

Whirring hums.

Feeder blossoms,

Scarlet and fuchsia,

Hang from silver hooks.

Hummingbirds dart like living jewels,

Their feathers flashing emerald and sapphire,

Garnet and gold.

A soft-spoken caretaker offers tiny glass droppers of nectar for guests to hold.

And occasionally,

A hummingbird perches gently on an offered hand,

One lands on your corsage,

And the hummingbird caretaker helps you remain still,

Placing a dropper of nectar in your other hand to lure the tiny bird.

It feels so magical to be so close to this delicate creature.

Buzzing with fervent energy as it sips the nectar.

In another corner,

A table with woven baskets contains rescued nests and tiny eggs in incubators,

Tended with quiet reverence by another caregiver.

You spot Bettina again.

She seems to be quite ubiquitous,

Sitting cross-legged beside a fountain shaped like a water lily.

A hummingbird hovers at her shoulder as she captures the attention of guests.

She says,

Our worldview shifts entirely when we live life as if we are guests in their world,

Rather than that they are guests in ours.

Her words follow you as you return to the outdoor festivities,

Taken in with a deep sense of wonder and appreciation for being a welcome guest at the castle,

In the woods,

In the blooming gardens,

And on this lovely planet.

As the night deepens,

More and more stars appear,

Millions of diamonds glittering overhead.

As the full moon rises over the castle spires and takes center stage,

The music softens and the stars continue to multiply.

The air is balmy,

Strangely becoming warmer as the hours go on.

You go to the dance floor,

Swaying to the music.

You are welcomed by other guests beneath the ivory chandeliers dripping in wisteria.

You feel as if you are floating on the breeze,

So carefree and light,

Guided by the haunting yet familiar melody of a ballad.

As the song ends,

Bettina joins the band and stands behind a vintage microphone.

Her voice simply utters,

It's time.

You and the guests follow her in hushed anticipation.

Even the band members place down their woodwinds and brass instruments to take part in this annual tradition.

Bettina guides you along a stone path lit with flickering candles.

You pass marble fountains where candles float amongst lotus flowers,

Their light reflecting on the rippling water.

Bettina leads you all to a stone garden and in the heart of this space,

A purple black flower rests beneath a glass dome.

Her long slender fingers clasp the dome and remove it.

You see the petals moving,

Ever so slightly,

As she stands still next to it,

Waiting for guests to congregate.

It's just past midnight,

And moonlight catches her silver hair once more.

Moonbeams reflect on the small dewdrops on the petals of the night-blooming flower.

Slowly,

Almost imperceptibly to many,

The purple black bloom unfurls.

Its outer petals gently stretch outwards,

Revealing a breathtaking inner world.

The interior of the flower appears hand-painted,

With iridescent strokes of opal,

Shimmering with hues of burgundy,

Violet,

And soft gold.

As it continues to open,

The petals unfurl further,

Separating and expanding,

Like a dozen stars nested intricately within each other.

Each new layer reveals deeper,

More luminous colors.

Until the flower stands in its full,

Radiant glory.

No one questions how or what goes into this synchronous moment,

But magically every year,

It always happens right on time.

After the main event,

The ball begins to wind down,

As sweet treats are passed out,

As well as sleepy teas.

Bettina finds you,

Placing a key in your hand,

Along with a hand-drawn map of the castle.

A series of yawns follows,

And you decide to return indoors,

To find your chamber in the moonlight wing.

A secluded stretch of moonbloom castle,

Reserved for slumber and dreams.

The stone corridor narrows,

And then opens into a tall arched doorway,

Carved with blooming vines.

You place the key in the lock,

And open the door.

Inside,

Everything glows softly.

The moonlight spills through diamond-painted windows,

Scattering silver puddles across the polished stone floor.

The ivory canopy bed stands in the center,

Dressed in sheer gauze and a lush cotton duvet.

Ivory white,

With spring wildflowers embroidered along the edges.

Primrose,

Snowdrops,

Crocuses,

And violets.

Floral boughs of sweet pea,

Apple blossom,

And honeysuckle drip down over the white marble mantle,

Where a fire crackles,

Warming the space.

You hear the distant song of crickets and nightbirds outside,

Carried on a breeze that smells faintly of lilac.

French doors open out onto a balcony,

Where you see the hummingbird sanctuary in the distance,

And a small koi pond below.

You carefully remove and hang your festive garments in an antique armoire with hand-carved floral patterns.

Wrapped in a silk robe,

You enter the grand bathroom to enjoy a hot shower.

Eucalyptus drapes around the rainfall showerhead,

Filling the steamy air with a sleep-inducing aroma.

Your muscles soften,

And you yawn once more,

Enjoying this luxurious,

Cleansing moment.

When you emerge,

You towel off and change into silk pajamas embroidered with your initials,

A gift from the castle,

And Bettina herself.

The fabric is cool against your skin,

Delicate like rose petals,

And features a spring motif in your favorite colors.

You return to the bed,

And peel back the covers and climb atop it.

The softest pillows cradle your head.

A tiny bundle of lavender and mint rests atop a pillow,

Tied with a ribbon the color of moonlight,

And a handwritten note from Bettina,

Wishing you the sweetest of dreams.

Outside,

The gardens grow quiet.

The castle sleeps.

The embers in the hearth glow gently,

And your heavy eyelids land on your tired eyes.

You feel safe,

Comforted,

And infused with the hopeful essence of spring.

The butterfly conservatory,

The hummingbirds,

The laughter,

The gardens,

The music,

And Bettina's serene smile weave together as your breath deepens,

And you long to hold onto the calming spirit of this magical night.

All its beauty ushers you across the bridge to sleep.

You're enlivening the dreams to come.

Finding bliss.

Finding serenity.

Finding deep peace.

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Reviews

Absolutely loved this story about a medieval castle Michelle! We were lucky to go to the Black Forest in 1990. We didn’t visit castles in Germany but went to many in the Czech Republic. They were all unique. Beautiful countryside with gorgeous gardens & lilacs planted along the highway! The smell in early May was intoxicating, as you travelled by. Your story made me feel like I was there, as your bedtime stories are so real to me. Of course I slept through all the story at night, only remembering a few things, as I fell sound asleep! My neighbour has a trellis with pale purple wisteria, which I can see from my front window. I didn’t know that they opened at night. I listened to this story again this morning before getting up & of course never made it to the end, as I fell asleep again! Your stories are so magical and real to me, Wishing I could attend the Spring Ball at the Moon Bloom Castle! I appreciate the relaxation exercises at the beginning, before you started the story. I look forward each time I see you’ve written a new story! Thank you kindly for another amazing adventure! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

The descriptive details of this story made me feel like I was there at the castle and the ball with all the guests. I could picture the meadows of flowers & see the hummingbirds. Thank you, Michelle, for this fun & creative adventure.

Thank you Michelle for another creative story. Very relaxing! 💜