Each night before I turn on the light in my room, I have to draw the curtains. Russ warns of a Cassin’s-window collision if any light is seen peeking out of the house. Odd, because I thought Cassin’s weren’t drawn to it. I suppose illuminating the Cassin’s makes them an easier target for the voracious western gulls.
In the morning, the room is deceptively dark and I have to tie up my curtains. This is no new fangled drapery, and it merely involves an odd length of fabric that functions as a sash. I love the motions I go through, from gathering the folds of my curtains to weaving the sash into a knot. For some inexplicable reason, I gain immense satisfaction and pleasure when I firmly pull the two ends of the sash to tighten the knot with a flourish. Light streams in and I am treated to the sight of the lush marine terrace, a feisty ocean, craggy hills and a hundred noisy western gulls. With that one resolute action, my day begins.