The Caravan Yew | Soft Celtic Fantasy Music for Sleep & Gentle Rain 🕯️

On a rainy evening, a salt caravan from the coast drew its wagons into a ring beneath the ancient yew beside my inn. I carried steaming mugs among the wagons and listened as the sound of a mending needle and a slow fiddle melted into the rain, while the chalk cutting they would cross tomorrow sank into the night. For rainy nights, until sleep comes. 🎵 Tracklist 0:00 Canvas Hoods at Sundown 3:04 The Salt Sacks Unloaded 3:39 Steaming Mugs on a Tray 6:37 The Western Chalk Cut 9:41 Stitching by Firelight 12:43 A Reel Dying Down 15:38 Rain Threading the Lattice 18:39 A Single Drip Off the Needles 📝 About each track 1. Canvas Hoods at Sundown — Coming home from the mill through a thin rain, I rounded the hill and saw, beneath the great yew with the sunset behind it, a ring of white-hooded wagons drawn up for the night. On the chalk hills to the west, the cutting the caravan had come through gaped pale. 2. The Salt Sacks Unloaded — As the last sunset slanted through the rain-streaked arched windows, the caravan folk carried their salt sacks, smelling of the tide, one by one into the inn's stone cellar. The salt, they said, was dried under summer sun on seaside pans I have never seen. 3. Steaming Mugs on a Tray — When night fell and the rain eased, I carried a tray of steaming mugs among the wagons and handed them to the drivers and children around the fire. The great yew, they say, has sheltered one-night guests on this hill for hundreds of years. 4. The Western Chalk Cut — Standing with the caravan master at the foot of the yew, I saw tomorrow's road running as a pale line over the western hill into the night sky. Three days past that cutting, he told me, you come down to the salt pans by the sea I have yet to see. 5. Stitching by Firelight — By the fire, an old driver was carefully stitching a wagon cover torn on the yew's branches, using a heavy needle and waxed thread. With the tray resting on my knees, I listened to the small sound of the needle passing through the cloth. 6. A Reel Dying Down — Somewhere among the wagons someone had been playing a fiddle, but each tune came slower than the last, until the music faded into the sound of the rain. The cutting beyond the hill had sunk into the dark and could no longer be seen. 7. Rain Threading the Lattice — Back in the inn, I banked the hearth, and all I could see was raindrops threading down the lead lattice of the arched window, one line at a time. Outside, the great yew was a dark mass holding the ring of wagons in its arms. 8. A Single Drip Off the Needles — When the rain stopped, a last drop fell from the tip of the yew's needles; inside the wagons the children slept, and the fire sank to red embers. In the morning the caravan will cross the western cutting, but tonight, everyone sleeps beneath the old tree. #celticmusic #fantasymusic #sleepmusic #睡眠用bgm