December 8, 2009

I watch the coffee klatch of cats that meet up every morning in my mother’s backyard - touching noses, exchanging gossip and drinking at the crock. They loll in the tall grass for a moment pretending disinterest in the variety of activities offered - aerobic workouts courtesy of grasshoppers, lizards and abundant bird life - the culinary joy of it, and even the strangeness of the humans who inhabit the big house. They come early, congregate and mingle and are off to the business of the day, which I am told, is sitting in front of windows, observing the rest of the world.