Peer through the doorway to see the yellow light fall across the bed, cat curled up within the warmth of its rays. Recharging on solitude, or maybe just reverting back to it. Unfamiliar pangs of hunger appear after two days of illness. Mind is a mess of directionless chatter. Soon there will be work again, a sinking back down into the morass.

Daydream of the cloistered life: a seat in front of this window, a view onto this rooftop tableau. The players: a mockingbird and a pair of cardinals. The drama focuses on a small pool of water at the roof’s edge. Herky-jerky movements like puppets as each actor attempts to take a drink. Have you ever watched a mockingbird tip its head back and swallow? It is truly a sight to behold. A couple of juncos show up as stand-ins, filling out the stage with their sprightly steps.

My attention in life ever shrinking to smaller details, my eyes wandering farther the larger the concepts grow, my ability to feign interest sinking like an anchor into cold black water. The rooftops, the treetops, they catch and hold me, leave me breathless. A new shoot poking out from an aloe’s center stuns me. And always the music to sink into at times like this, a warm aural bath that clears the mind and calms the nerves. It doesn’t ask, only gives, already knowing how you need to feel.