I opened my eyes. The digital clock blinked 4:05am. Groaning, I turned away from the offending appliance and tried to catch some more sleep. My dreams, bordering on nightmares, always had me chasing, or being chased by some monster, ghost or ghoul. No wonder I woke up exhausted every morning.

After unsuccessfully trying to count backwards from one hundred, a trick that worked fifty percent of the time, I made sure I didn’t disturb the man sleeping next to me, as I left the bed. I padded on my flat feet, to the bathroom where my robe and slippers were waiting. Next stop, on auto pilot as my routine never varied, my fingers found the switch and brought the kettle to life. In the still dark hours, I spooned some coffee into my mug, following it with water and a splash of milk.  Popped a tea bag in the empty cup for my man, for when he joined me, in a couple of hours’ time.

In the gloomy glow of the laptop light, I checked my emails. Nothing interesting or out of the ordinary. I scrolled social media. Same old posts. Where were the innovative new content? Opening my kindle app I chose a book I’d been meaning to read.

Half an hour later, my knees creaked as I stood to top up my mug. An herbal tea this time, too much coffee and I became even crankier than was normal. A few deep breaths to clear away the brain fog. Getting old was a blessing. Not all my friends and family made it to the ripe old age of fifty-seven. The challenge was manoeuvring through the maze of aches and pain, real and imagined. Eye sight, hearing, agility; a new norm for every part of my body. Not that I complained, I just got on with life. It’s too short not to. No regrets I can’t go back.

Power came with age, for me, an awakening of sorts. I may be cranky, crazy, with an increasing desire to not spend a lot of time around people. I may wish some things were different, that old decisions had borne different outcomes. Still now, one of the benefits of age, though I hesitated to label it wisdom, I could wave my hands and flowers grew from bare patches or earth. I closed my eyes and communicated with the dearly departed. I manipulated the elements with subtle hand movements. I found my powers increased most days. Some backfired. The television and other electrical appliances worked fifty percent of the time. My ability to speak eloquently failed me at the worst times.

My second cup finished, my husband wasn’t likely to wake for another hour or more. I showered, changed into jeans, a purple t-shirt and my old comfy shoes. I slid open the sliding door. My garden beckoned. I walked past the herbs, running my hands along to release their fragrance. Pushing open the vine covered gate, I climbed into the magic realm.