Room with a View

Tim and I have lived in our apartment for about six months now, and I love it. It's not because it's better insulated or better laid out than the house we lived in for three years, though I appreciate those things. I love our apartment because of what I see from its windows.

From the east windows I see the sun rise and the trains and cars go by. I see a farmer's field in all its colors and states -- deep green with crops in the summer, yellow with discarded husks after harvest, brown and fallow in the winter, and (I imagine) light green with delicate new life in the spring. From the southern windows I see the lake and, on the other side, the village, which looks as if it's been imported from southern Italy, with rooflines and cypresses rising in the distance. (I am, of course, leaving out the car wash and bowling alley in the foreground, which ruin the effect.) And from the western window in my office I see the lake itself, which like the field reflects the seasons. Right now it's glittering and frozen, and in the evening flocks of water birds settle on it to sleep.

I also like watching our cats as they look out of the same windows (except for the southern ones, which are in the bathroom). I never get tired of observing Katya and Hermione; their sleeping, yawning, stretching, and grooming fascinate me. But I especially love how they express their curiosity (and their hunting instincts) when they look out the window. Both Katya and Hermione love to look out the eastern windows -- the one in our living room is a sliding glass door onto our balcony, and they spend a good part of the day watching the traffic, human and animal. In our bedroom, we have a small cabinet and a bookshelf below the window, and it always amazes me to see the cats' nonchalant agility as one or the other leaps from the floor to the cabinet and then the bookshelf in two fluid movements, and then crouches on top of the bookshelf, tense and motionless except for her eyes, which scan the field for a tasty treat she'll never catch.

Hermione, our younger cat, is limber and strong enough to jump from the floor directly onto the window ledge in my office, and I often find her there, especially these days when there are birds on the lake. Sometimes I think she enjoys watching the coming and going of humans just as much, though, since that window affords a good view of our complex's parking lot. I'm not sure if she's simply attracted by the movement or if she's stalking people the way she stalks birds. I think I'm happier leaving that mystery unsolved.