I slept with the window open last night. It seems that it’s the simple things about the changing of seasons (particularly from cold ones to warm ones) that make me happiest. I love the sound of the wind squeezing through the pinholes in the screen, the train in the distance, the birds in the morning. I find myself dilerious with the dawn when I can feel the air that blew it in on my face, cooling my pillows and nudging me back to conciousness.
Breakfast consisted of a fried egg and Swiss cheese on top of a sourdough English muffin and six strawberries, the stems carefully cut and each one sliced in half. I ate it while sitting Indian-style on my bed, leaning against the wall, next to the open window. Upon finishing, I laid back on the bed and propped my feet up on the sill and watched the sky get bluer.

I love, more than a lot of things, sleeping with the window open. It makes me quintessentially happy. Unfortunately I only like sleeping with the window open when the humidity is below 50%…