The Weather Cat
Good Morning!
Most self-confessed writers have a window with a view and a cat too. The changing scenery, whether it is the blazing tree framed by the window or the wheezing cyclist panting up the hill, may inspire reams of print. The patient ,unblinking cat is also satisfied with her ration of people watching, and moves from the sunny sill, to snuggle on the stack of warm newspapers, heated to the right degree, by the eastern sun. Time flies for the lucky few, whose writer’s block occasionally lifts, to accelerate bursts of creativity. A soft thump on the uncarpeted, cool floor brings one back to the here and now. It’s 3 p.m, if Garfield’s sister is the rug at your feet. A clock, weather channel or seismic indicator is unnecessary with animals around. Unlike us, their sensory stimuli have not been dulled. In Lakshwadeep, those who followed the elephants to higher ground escaped the destructive damage of the tsunami. Animal instincts, sixth sense, telepathy and providence only works for those whose antennas are tuned to the rumblings of the earth. To hear God’s whisper, the senses have to be re-introduced to the whistle of the wind and the play of light as the sun rises and sets .Difficult environmental conditions can be figured out, only by those, who have a bit of the domestic cat or gentle giant in them. An effortless slipping back into the green habitat, can one day, make the two-legged, a part of the lost world out there-a nearly forgotten one, which if not preserved will slip away from us, forever.
seasons,
weather
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