In community the traditional remedy for a sleepless night is to say something like, "Oh goody! I'll make some extra prayer." Usually, as soon as one does that, one nods off (not very edifying but true). Last night I prayed and read but sleep still would not come. So I listened to the sounds of the night, and how beautiful they are: the strange, alto bark of the dog fox as he made his nightly passage across Hill Farm; the soft snuffle of the hedgehogs crossing the lawn; the occasional alarm of a bird wakened from sleep; and other, less identifiable sounds, which might have been deer beyond the fence, or even a badger though I haven't noticed signs of any setts around here. The nights are so short at this time of year, and there is a long gloaming and dawn in which to enjoy the flight of bats and beetles and the abundant buglife of this little corner of Oxfordshire. As Psalm 150 reminds us, "Let everything that lives and that breathes/ Give praise to the Lord. Alleluia!"