The Cozy Bay Bookshop

Set sail to a remote Finnish island in "Cozy Bay Bookshop" a relaxing story for sleep. Arrive by ferry to a misty harbor and visit the heart of the island—a charming bookshop filled with the scent of old books and the warmth of a crackling wood stove. Sip lingonberry tea as you explore its cozy nooks, then retreat to a seaside cottage where the comforts of the night bring the best sleep. It’s time to dream away.

Transcript

Let's take a sleepy journey with tonight's bedtime story for grownups.

You are listening to Cozy Bookshop by The Bay Sometimes I feel a longing for a quiet island,

Where all my responsibilities fade away,

And I'm left to daydream and bury myself in classic tales and undiscovered literary gems that will forever transform how I look at life.

Travel by ferry to a small island in Finland with an enchanting bookshop overlooking the misty bay.

Known only to locals as Book Island,

This fishing village transforms in the fall and winter months,

And the bookshop becomes a hub.

Curled up beside a crackling wood stove,

You take in the sweeping postcard views as you get lost in books familiar and new and sip on lingonberry tea.

A peachy-pink sunset illuminates your stroll along creaky docks and cobblestone streets as you return to a traditional Scandinavian seaside cottage where you drift off into peaceful sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary,

A place where you are always encouraged to focus on yourself and tend to your needs.

Life can ask so much of us at times,

But within this sanctuary,

I hope you can let go and enjoy the mental reprieve you deserve.

I am Michelle,

Your guide to beloved worlds and imaginative havens,

Places where you may explore new parts of yourself.

Each story unfolds like a dream with no rules and plenty of freedom to let your mind embellish and change any detail to suit your desires right now.

Think of my voice as that of an old dear friend who welcomes you as you are.

You can let down your guard,

Feel safe,

And connect with your creative side.

Use this time to celebrate the day you've lived today,

With gratitude for making it through and arriving at this delicious time to wind down.

Fall asleep at any point and my voice will continue to guide you to a soothing dreamscape.

Let's take a moment to check in with you.

Shift your attention to your body and your breath.

If you like,

Give yourself a little wiggle to find the most comfortable position.

Maybe stretch your arms and legs,

Letting them sink like anchors into the support of your bed.

Explore the contrasting sensations you experience as your tired muscles and bones feel heavy while your spirit and mind feel carefree and light.

Tucked in the sanctuary of your room,

Imagine the air changes with a subtle draft.

That delivers the comforting scent of old books and burning logs.

Open your mouth and sigh.

The sound conjuring thoughts of the ocean's whispers and soft turning of pages.

Nesting in the support of your pillows and bed,

You may inhale deeply and slowly.

Smell the air of a cool,

Misty harbor contrasting with the warm,

Dry air of a bookshop.

As you yawn and then sigh,

The rhythm of your life in this sacred moment sinks with the slow-paced charm of a bookshop by the bay.

Indulge in the relaxation and peace you feel as your mind drifts between your bedroom and this imaginary oasis of books.

Inhale deeply and slowly.

Visualize the air around you swirling with the words of beloved books that offer wisdom and inspiration.

These messages infuse the air and resonate with your soul.

As you yawn and sigh again,

You welcome the escape and serenity they bring you.

Every muscle and joint in your body finds space.

Breathe in once more,

Feeling your body expand the most it has,

Knowing you deserve every ounce of peace that you claim.

Let your exhale carry away any distractions as they dissolve like mist over the bay,

Fading into the world of the quiet bookshop.

They are no longer yours to hold.

Gently ease your breath back into an easy rhythm.

Become aware of how much more peaceful you feel now than moments ago,

Knowing this is only the beginning.

It's time for the story to unfold.

My 12th grade English teacher often said that one not need travel the world to become worldly.

Worldliness can come from being well-read and exploring beyond the familiar and mundane with compassion and curiosity.

No book requires a passport,

Yet it can transport you to faraway lands,

Immersing you so deeply that it feels like your feet have touched down upon foreign soil.

And just as books invite us into unknown realms and different aspects of ourselves,

So too does Finland,

With its vast and captivating landscapes.

Home to over 188,

000 islands,

It represents one of the world's largest archipelagos.

Tonight,

We visit one such magical island known to locals as Kiryasari,

Or Book Island.

Daily cruises find their way to the picturesque harbor in the summer months,

But in the remaining,

Chillier parts of the year,

Fairies are less frequent,

Catering to a community with fewer than 600 residents.

As the fairy approaches the island,

The misty veil of morning still lingers.

The landscape is the perfect setting for a maritime fairy tale where one could imagine mermaids concealed on beaches thick with fog.

The water is calm and glassy,

Reflecting the elephant-gray skies and the distant silhouettes of colorful fishing boats rocking gently in the harbor.

The island is quiet,

Almost reverential.

So pristine and peaceful,

It has the feel of a movie set,

A setting untouched by real-life challenges.

Nestled along the coastline,

The small village sprawls around the harbor in a patchwork of quaint cottages and timber houses,

Their slanted roofs glistening with a hint of remaining morning dew.

In a few weeks,

Snow and frost will replace the iridescent morning droplets.

The storied region swarms with day-trippers and vacationers from June to September,

But the rest of the year,

It retains the tempo of a sleepy fishing village.

As the fairy boat docks,

You take in the strong contrast between the bleak sea and sky and the vivid hues of the village.

The homes,

Like many in Scandinavian coastal villages,

Are a defiant resistance to gray days,

Showcasing the vivacity of the human spirit in riots of bright colors.

Cottages offer pops of crimson reds,

Royal blues,

Forest-inspired greens,

And deep shades of yellow.

The occasional flower box blooms bright against the weathered stone walls to bring more happy contrasts amidst the cool and foggy backdrop.

The air is sharp but refreshing.

The crisp scent of salt water weaves with the sweet perfume of pine pitch from conifers that line the edges of the coast.

With every intake of clean air,

You feel both grounded and alive.

And there's a reverberating invitation to slow down and breathe deeply.

The fairy glides closer to the harbor,

And you welcome the sensation of the bay breeze against your face.

You maintain your balance,

Gripping your hands around the cool metal railing speckled with salt water splashes of the sea.

A light windbreaker billows over your soft,

Thick sweater,

And you smile with a feeling of intrigue and excitement.

As the fairy docks,

The wooden pier creaks and winds as the deckhands tether rope to weathered hosts.

The sound cuts through the stillness of the morning,

Contrasting the gently lapping waves and the occasional call of a seagull overhead.

You travel light with just a simple duffel bag and wait for the rest of the passengers to disembark first.

You enjoy watching them part ways,

Some going to their cars while others wander through the cobblestone streets,

Pushing carts brimming with bounties they purchased on the mainland.

As you step off the fairy and onto the wooden planks,

The island's spirit swathes you like a thick woolen blanket.

You sigh.

This is a place where everyone blissfully sighs,

Relieved from the weight of the world and the discourses of modern society.

It is a privilege,

But one not taken for granted.

This is how people lived not so long ago.

Before the information age brought a constant feed of perhaps too much information.

You thank the ruddy-faced captain who bows his head and tips his hat with a benevolent grin,

So happy to deliver people to this Finnish paradise as they are to arrive.

A small shop stands guard at the end of the pier,

Selling tackles,

Fishing supplies,

Snacks and beverages.

The facade is adorned with a tawny fishing net from which colorfully painted fish-sinkers dangle.

They include messages of love,

Names of visitors,

And inspiring quotes and proverbs in different languages.

As you walk toward a cobbled path leading into the heart of the village,

As the fairy horn blows and echoes through the bay,

The village feels untouched by time.

Every winding cobblestone lane is like a postcard come to life.

The late morning sun slowly emerges from behind the clouds.

A welcome arrival as daylight hours are limited this time of year.

The first tentative golden rays cause the village to sparkle,

Bringing a soft glow.

Every nook and cranny fills with a warmth that clears the remnants of the morning chill.

The sea air is alive with a scent of brine,

Wood smoke that spirals out of chimneys,

And the faint smell of freshly baked bread and pastries.

Atop a small hill,

The bookshop stands watch over the fishing village.

A keeper of stories within and unfolding around it.

Tucked between two cottages,

The wooden facade is a blue-green shade that changes in the light like a shimmering mermaid tail.

Large inviting bay windows are surrounded by white trim and shutters.

Climbing ivy drapes from the gabled roof,

And above the entrance,

A white wooden sign gently sways,

Inscribed with the words,

Baybound Bookshop,

In elegant hand-painted letters.

You follow the slick cobblestone path,

Sensing the mysterious allure of the building.

It's not something you could explain,

But rather a feeling that fills you with happiness and comfort.

The wooden door squeaks into the shop,

And a gush of dry,

Warm air meets you.

Your first thought is,

I could stay here a while.

The interior gives the impression of being at home,

But not necessarily a home from your past.

It's more like entering a home you've always wanted.

The door closes softly behind you,

And the scent of well-loved books fills the air.

The heady smell of aged paper,

Leather bindings,

And lingonberry tea come together with a welcoming aroma.

Only now inside do you recognize the lingering chill and smell of the sea on your windbreaker.

As your face and hands warm up,

The shop is both cozy and lofty,

With high ceilings,

Towering bookshelves,

And window-view nooks.

All the other guests have their noses buried in books.

You instantly note their placid expressions and soothing presence.

The sounds of fingers rustling through pages joins the crackles and pops of burning logs in the wood stove.

Today,

The shop is a refuge for the occasional fisherman,

A recent college graduate who's returned home,

A reclusive poet who garners the courage to read her works in progress at the weekly open mic,

And a few tourists like yourself.

The soft strains of classical piano music play in the background,

Quiet enough to add to the ambience and not interfere with getting swept away by the happenings in a book.

There was a time in the United States,

Not so long ago,

When bookstores were the go-to place to study and socialize,

To find an escape for hours,

And perhaps even meet the love of your life,

Be it in human or paperback form.

The bay-bound bookshop conjures this experience of the past.

No phones or computers are seen,

And there's an unwritten invitation to linger for as many hours as you like.

At the counter,

You're greeted by Marja,

The owner,

A tall,

Striking woman with waist-length platinum hair and aquamarine eyes that read you as well as they have read the hundreds of books that line the shelves.

Her gaze is sharp but kind,

And her demeanor is demure and warm.

A beautiful ivory wool shawl drapes around her shoulders,

Featuring a pattern in pink,

Turquoise,

Cerulean blue,

And lavender.

Marja smiles softly and welcomes you to the shop,

Sensing it's your first time here.

She explains the shop's unique policy.

Books may be bought or offered on exchange,

And thanks to donations from famous writers and visitors,

No one who enters the shop has ever denied the chance to take a book home.

Book swaps are welcome,

But the mission of the bookshop is to ensure an exchange of ideas and text and an approachable sense of community.

It's remarkable to discover a bookstore this grand,

Quite unlike any you've ever visited.

Rows upon rows of custom shelves made from local pine trees feature nautical engravings and are polished to shine in the midday sunlight that filters through the windows.

These shelves overflow with every genre imaginable.

Classic novels,

Contemporary works,

Magical tales,

And obscure treasures.

The bookshop is the heartbeat of the village,

A gathering spot not just for locals,

But extended to all who visit,

With the most beloved classics and current bestsellers available in many translations.

A tiny corner cafe in the bookshop becomes an appreciated and necessary sanctuary when the island is covered in snow.

It's a hopeful meet-up spot in the bleakest winter days that can feel unending.

Marja invites you to explore the shop and perhaps enjoy a cup of tea as you curl up with a good read.

You meander through the aisles,

Carefully running your fingers down the spines of books,

Some familiar and others in languages you do not know or understand.

You pull out a few novels and study the covers,

Some old,

Worn,

And carrying the energy of those whose lives were changed by the passages contained.

The first book to capture your attention is something new,

A modern-day mermaid story.

You then gather a classic novel you've always meant to read,

But haven't found the time.

And lastly,

You select a book from your past.

This singular work has changed your views and your approach to life,

Yet also connects you to the parts of yourself that were there during the first reading.

You hug the books to your chest as you proceed to the cafe nook,

Which is tucked away behind a set of charmingly mismatched velvet chairs and small,

Candlelit,

Sea-blue cafe tables.

The space is intimate and inviting,

With soft floor cushions and silk settees that give many places to settle.

Large windows behind the glass display case of lingonberry pastries and other confections frame the idyllic setting outside.

Fishing boats bob gently in the water,

Their brightly colored hulls adding a splash of vibrancy against the grey clouds that conceal the sun once more.

You order a lingonberry scone and tea,

Popular items that live up to their hype.

An overstuffed armchair between the wood stove and picture window becomes your afternoon spot.

You feel a lightness in your chest and in your spirit.

There's no rush or agenda.

You take your time savoring the transformative words within the dog-eared pages of a book revisited and the crisp,

Smooth paper of a novel just discovered.

Upon sitting,

You realize how much your body is needed to take a break from standing,

And you welcome the support of the plush cushion and throw pillows.

You sip your lingonberry tea,

The tart sweetness cutting through the flaky,

Buttery crust of the scone.

The words on the page of the newly discovered mermaid novel begin to transport you,

The letters flowing like a gentle current that draws you in.

Already,

You feel a great sense of joy,

That you're hooked from the start.

The page-turner you always hope a new book will be,

Yet it's not always the case.

As the hours unfold,

You are transported to an underwater world of mystical kingdoms.

The mermaids are a species with strong convictions,

Yet they foster a harmonious world amongst blue whales and fantastical beings like starfish and seahorses.

As customers come and go from the shop,

The saltwater air outside rushes in,

Immersing you deeper into the story.

You come up from the pages and peer out the window to notice the sun,

Though still low in the sky,

Starts to descend.

The sky shifts from pale blue to dusky lavender,

And the mist that clung to the cobblestone and beach retreats to leave a soft,

Lingering glow.

You can sense the change in the air outside from a gentle draft,

And appreciate the burning embers in the wood stove all the more.

You set aside the mermaid tale drawn to your favorite book as a teenager.

Intuitively,

You finger through the pages to revisit a favorite part,

Certain you will reread it once more.

It's the kind of book you always keep an extra copy of,

Just waiting to share with someone who hasn't yet had the joy of discovering it.

No matter how familiar the words are,

Each time you open the book,

You discover something new.

Not just about the story,

But about yourself.

The book is like a window into your past,

Where you see your younger self.

Yet at the same time,

The reflections on the glass reveal the person you've become.

This book does what great art always does well,

Captures the essence of the many lives you've lived and those you still hope to entertain.

With this thought,

You peel yourself out of the chair,

Holding your three books as you make your way to the checkout counter.

Marja smiles,

Inquiring if you have books to exchange,

But you offer to pay for your selections in cash,

Extending a small donation as well.

For your kindness,

She gifts you a canvas bag with the store's logo,

Surrounded by the bay and evergreen trees,

And she adds a bookmark that reads,

We read to know we are not alone.

C.

S.

Lewis.

You thank her and step out into the sunset world.

The skies are a peachy pink,

Reflecting on the water.

The most colorful part of the day,

The wet cobblestones retain an otherworldly sheen that captures the pink light as well.

Street lamps turn on as you descend the hill and come down to the main street.

With both bags balanced on your shoulders,

You find your way to 64 Satamakatu,

Or Harbor Street,

To the cottage you've rented for your stay.

The two-story dwelling is painted in a deep orange-red,

Reminiscent of the traditional Finnish barns that dot the countryside.

The color glows warmly in the late afternoon light,

Contrasting with the green pines that frame it and the endless blue sea behind it.

A small,

Hand-carved wooden sign sways gently in the salty breeze,

Reading,

Kodinranta,

Home by the Shore.

As you step up to the door,

You notice the intricate details of the architecture and the craftsmanship of the wood-carved,

Snow-white accents around the windows.

Dozens of light-catchers hang in the window,

Refracting into tiny rainbows that dance on the sidewalk.

The roof is steeply pitched,

Typical of the local cottages,

And the shingles are dark,

Weathered wood.

Large,

Mullioned windows allow every bit of light to pour into the home.

And even the darkest winter days.

Stepping through the door,

The scent of salt and pine wood greets you,

Mixed with something earthy and warm.

The entryway is small,

But thoughtfully decorated.

In a minimalistic way,

The stone floor underfoot is smooth,

Cool to the touch,

And sprinkled with woven rugs in shades of indigo and mossy green,

Echoing the sea and forest outside.

Driftwood gray walls feature black-framed paintings of fishing boats and hand-drawn maritime maps from local artists.

To the left,

The main living space opens up,

Centered around a brick hearth.

Above the mantle,

An oil painting depicts a mermaid,

Surrounded by moonlit waves.

Her purple eyes display that she is enraptured by an open book with gold edges that balances in her delicate hands.

The hearth is adorned with ceramic vessels and jars of colorful seaglass.

The furniture is simple,

Yet made with care,

Featuring pops of teal and cobalt blue.

You set down your bags and wander into the small yet functional kitchen.

The open shelves display hand-thrown ceramic bowls and mugs,

All in earthy tones of terracotta,

Ocean blue,

And cream.

A simple wooden table is set for dinner.

The faint scent of dill,

Caraway,

And pie crust is carried on the warm air.

The owner of the cottage has thoughtfully kept a rustic Finnish pie,

Golden and steaming warm,

In the old cast iron stove.

You remove it and enjoy the savory meal as the blue cast of the night takes hold.

Feeling satiated and tired,

You clean up the dishes and then gather your bags to head upstairs to the second floor.

The narrow wooden stairs creak softly beneath your feet.

The upstairs landing is simple,

With low wooden beams and whitewashed walls.

The bright,

Airy feel contrasts with the rustic architecture.

The bedroom is at the far end of the hall,

And as you step inside,

You're struck by its calming simplicity.

The bed sits near the window,

Draped in crisp,

White linen sheets with a patchwork quilt in muted tones of sea green and light blue at the foot.

The headboard is crafted from repurposed driftwood.

A single brass lantern hangs from the ceiling,

Casting a warm,

Amber glow over the space,

Illuminating the simple wooden dresser and a small bookshelf tucked into the corner.

You unpack and gather your pajamas,

Book and toiletries,

And step into an adjoining bathroom.

You light several candles,

Placing them on the thick windowsills that frame the starry sky and harbor.

A clawfoot tub sits beneath a large window,

And as you fill it with warm water,

You add a few wooden spoonfuls of bath salts.

You sink into the bath and rest your head and neck on the thick,

Smooth edge.

Outside,

The faint lights of the harbor boats flicker in the distance,

And the moonlit waves kiss the shores.

You pick up your book from the small table beside the tub.

The worn page is welcoming you back to a world you are happy to join.

You lose yourself in the story,

The words transporting you,

Helping you prepare your mind for the beguiling space between reality and your dreams to come.

Your eyes become heavy,

And so you rise,

Towel off,

And dress.

You blow out the candles,

Looking out the windows one last time at the bay,

With a sense of hope and gratitude.

The bedroom is cool,

Perfect for snuggling in your pajamas beneath the quilt.

As your head sinks into the pillows,

The crisp linens are cool against your face,

And you inhale the pristine,

Salty air tinged with the purifying smell of pine.

You welcome sleep as it comes in waves,

Ushering you to the magical worlds experienced and imagined,

Feeling equally real as you surrender.

Finding serenity.

Finding comfort.

Finding the loveliness of the night.

Finding sleep.

And it's time to dream away.

Good night.

Reviews

One of my favorites. I listen to it multiple times a week, but have never heard all of it yet.

Michelle, splendid topic! I love a good book & particularly one that takes me to another place, or another time! I am fortunate that I have been the recipient of many donations of books! A good friend gave me a book years ago & said, loved this & thought you would too!
The book ‘The Mistress of Nothing’ by Kate Pullinger, took me on an adventure to 1860’s Cairo & Luxor. An amazing journey that I learned was based on a true Victorian story of Lady Duff Gordon of London. I then found my library had the diary of Lady Duff & I read that as well. As you stated in your story, books can make us well travelled. I am definitely going to listen to ‘Cozy Bay Bookshop’ again! Thank you kindly for this excellent bedtime story which lulled me to sleep! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

I have always loved reading & browsing bookstores. Thank you for another wonderful story.

Thank you for your beautiful story. You are the best!

Thank you! I didn’t hear enough to even remember the story, I’ll try again another night. 💕