One thing I will miss very much when I move is my kitchen window. Shaped like a rectangle, having a latch that lets me open it out like a porthole, it’s a source of pleasure. At night, I let down and shut the venetian blinds. In the morning, no matter what season, I feel a touch of excitement at what the day might be like. Because of where I live, snow would not be out of place in warm weather.
There is one thin tree, almost Japanese in its artistry, with a tiny temple bell hung on its branch. The wooden fence is a beautiful mixture of tans and browns, and the space feels like a private oasis. That’s why when I pull up the blinds, it’s as if I’m receiving a gift.