I couldn’t sleep last night. It was 3 AM. After some tossing and turning I decided to get up and maybe read a book. Putting on my bathrobe, I relocated to an overstuffed chair in the darkened sun-room.
Moonlight streamed in the windows creating patches of light and shadow on the carpet. My cats meandered about, no doubt wondering why I was up so late. I knew why. Worries about the pandemic, racial injustice, and the killing of George Floyd bubbled up out of my subconscious leaving me completely wide awake.
The moonlight and shadows were too pretty to disturb, so I didn’t turn on the reading light. Instead, I switched on an old-fashioned AM radio we bought at a tag sale. It crackled to life immediately bringing back childhood memories of listening to faraway AM radio stations in the wee hours.
At first, I tuned in a talk radio program from somewhere out in this big, dark, sleeping nation. The caller and host were having a passionate discussion. I never determined the subject because the station kept fading in and out. Sometimes, the signal was loud and clear, other times it was completely lost in static. Maybe a thunderstorm or other atmospheric condition let me hear the call-in show, even for just a few moments.
Eventually, I settled on a stronger signal. Through the quiet ether, across 250 miles of slumbering New England, a station from Montreal was coming in loud and clear. From the proper nouns and geographical names I deduced it was a news report. But because it was in French, and I don’t speak French, I couldn’t understand just what that news report was all about.
It was the best news report I head all week.
Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue
I could totally listen to foreign language news in the wee hours. Sounds wonderful!
Glad you liked it!