If you are having trouble getting to sleep, consider these words by Donald Culross Peattie, written in 1935.
Time now for the long sleep of the four-footed brethren. The frosty nights, the days so brief and so subdued, the cold and voiceless emptiness of the ruined woods, have warned the woodchucks, the pine mice, the chipmunks and the bats. And now in couples, or in families, they creep away to their lairs.
When I am troubled with insomnia, I think not upon those foolish sheep, jumping heavily and wearily over a stile. I think instead of the sleep of the white-footed mice, in their burrows and hollows, warm flank to warm flank, clever little paws folded over sensitive noses and whiskers, as they doze away the days and the nights together, secure in their retreat, contented with their lot. They sleep as the plants sleep in their roots and bulbs. Their hearts beat so slowly that they scarce suffice to force the warm blood through the chilled limbs, minds are a blank, all hunger, desires, impulses and fears in abeyance for days and days, for weeks and weeks. So do these little fellows sleep, five and ten at a time, fallen upon each other in little furry windrows of drowsiness.
- Donald Culross Peattie, 1935