On Monday, our last wave of visitors to the cabin left. First to go were Harry and Jane, then Jay and Carl headed south, leaving Anne and I all alone. I packed up the new cots that we had been sleeping on while everyone else was here and we moved back into the master bedroom. I don’t know if it was the new again bed or the silent absence of all the others, but both Anne and I experienced some sleeplessness last night. Anne had some trouble falling asleep and proceeded to count the number of prime numbers between 1900 and 2000. She counted eleven, but after later looking it up, discovered that there are thirteen. Anne has always had this thing for prime numbers that dates back to a high school science project she did. If prime numbers don’t work, then she recites the fifty states and their capitols. Breathing-in she says to herself, Alabama. Then with a slow exhale she spells out the state, A-l-a-b-a-m-a and then recites its capitol, Montgomery, before breathing again and moving on to the next state. Sometimes she does the state alphabetically, but on other occasions she will do them geographically, either north-south and then east-west or visa-versa. She finds that these mental exercises help to relax her and let her fall asleep. I am nowhere near as imaginative as she is when dealing with insomnia. Last night, I awoke at three, probably, because I had to pee. Returning to bed, I noticed a light on outside. I finally figured out that it was the overhead moon. It was shining on the window screens, giving the forest a gauzy sheen, except for the top foot of the windows, where the roof’s overhang shielded the window from the moonlight. After I had figured all of that out, I soon fell asleep, not very imaginative.