New developments with the cats .. the new neighbor downstairs has been feeding them. Slowly, little by little, the young mother cat and her adorable wee kitten come up to the stoop and eat. Mowgli, my manly cat pal, leads the way, curling himself right next to the doorway like he owns the rug.
I'm glad to see that they are being adopted, even though I'm a bit sad to lose the opportunity to interact with them in the wild. Yesterday, they showed me there was still that streak of wild cat in these jazz babies.
I went out to get into my car and go to work and right there on the sidewalk was a fresh (and dead) mouse. It was a touching gift of gratitude for the folks that have been feeding the cats.
Wildlife aside, I will say that the urge to create has gone rather dormant in me, perhaps as a result of the summer doldrums. Doldrums. Such a nice word for the stillness of hot, sticky summertime. You might stir yourself enough to get up and go into the kitchen and pour a glass of water ...
The Walkway over the Hudson is one antidote. No matter how hot it is, there's always a breeze over the river. And there's a positive spin on the Walkway, no matter who is doing the walking. It might be a man and wife with a stroller or a couple hand in hand or oldsters walking three abreast in threadbare cotton and canvas hats. You can overhear heartbreaking conversations or banal ones. Kids on skateboards and scooters. Dogs. Lots of dogs.
Here's one of the photos I took of the Walkway, one of the amazing skies.
We had a tinkering of a rainstorm for a half an hour tonight and it's already gone. The breeze has run off to ruffle somebody else's hair, and the sticky night is back. The dense call of insects, stacking their songs one on top of the other like cells under a microscope.
A skunk has crept under the window and asserted herself. I can imagine the cats hidden back in their lair, sniffing the sweet night air, far away from human civilization.