Velvet breeze round my doorstep
It is Saturday morning and the Spies are all awake, each in a different room, which can be a challenge at Spy Headquarters, as there are exactly three people and exactly three rooms. Usually there is one person with a burning desire to be elsewhere. We are like cats in that regard. And then it is impossible to be alone without being in incessant motion from room to room. I’ve been known to take that approach, in search of some solitude. You have to do it casually, as if you’ve just forgotten something next door, lest there be hurt feelings surrounding your departure. But even then, you are often found out. Or followed.
But this morning, AJ is reading in his bed and Mr. Spy is reading in his. I have commandeered the sofa, which floats, like a yacht, in the main room of our house that serves as kitchen, media room, office, and occasional table tennis tournament arena.
It snowed last night, the first real snow we had this year, a perfect glittery dry powder. Under the street lights, and later the full moon, it sparkled in the air like diamonds as we walked home from dinner at our new favorite restaurant around the corner (favorite, at least in part, because it is around the corner).
This morning, our brownstoned street is iced in white, with the rose-colored crown gleaming in the sunrise:
That is the view from the window in front of my favorite chair. The picture doesn’t even begin to do it justice.
Most Saturdays AJ and I are out early to meet Cranky and J for a walk along the park to the green market. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I find it ironic that after years of living in a fairly rural area, it’s not until I move to the biggest city in the country that I get to know the people who grow my food. But this morning, Cranky and J are busy, and without the added incentive of a visit, I’m finding it hard to convince me to disembark the sofa. Instead I am listening to the scrape of snow shovels on the sidewalk outside and thinking how glad I am that it’s not me and also missing it a little.