Kipilefti

I notice a strange sepia light coming through the curtains, so I pull them aside and look out on the most beautiful evening I’ve seen here, which is saying quite a lot. It’s like a Lisa Frank landscape come to life, but subtle and natural and minus the unicorns and dolphins. Each cardinal direction has something different: in the west, delicate white clouds edged with gold from the setting sun; in the north, two birds on a wire flank the bottom of a rainbow; east, a soft grey cloud tinged with pink on the edges hovers over the edge of glowing mountains; south, the other side of the rainbow descends into dark mountains, silhouetted against a subtly beautiful pastel sky.

I put on my best Nina Simone voice and sing to the cats. “Birds flying high, you know how I feel; sun in the sky, you know how I feel…” They remain nonplussed, reminding me that they’re only feeling good when there’s fresh food in their bowl. (If you were wondering–and I know you were–my best Nina Simone voice sounds good, but also sounds nothing like the great lady.)