The reality of the cat right now is a curled sleep, perched by the window so that if he were to wake he could turn his head and see both inside and out.
I think we're all looking for that seat, the one that let's us see everything, all at once, without having to move. If said perch comes with a remote control, so much the better.
For me, that seat is never enough. It may be the best view and I'll take it in, dig it, breathe it, taste it, but then wonder about the view from somewhere else. I'm always wondering what's behind door number two, or 22 or 222.
I might get up and move to the kitchen because there's coffee there. I might go to the back door to check out the squirrels pilfering acorns in the back yard or see what abstract art the trees and leaves have wrought.
I'm not happy with any single view or vantage point. Restless and curious is a roughshod combination.
But if the sun beams through the front window and brightens the room and warms my face and illuminates the book or notebook page, I might, like the cat, close my eyes and sit for a while.
On Homesickness. - The second time I went to New England was after a prolonged time in the deep south. My tenure at Louisiana State University had come to a close (relativel...