Mewsings by Angelicat©

THE NIGHT WATCHMAN

        There is something to be said about the quiet of late night when the only movement is from the slight stir of leaves on the tall trees that line my street.  These older, established neighborhoods also have the vintage globe street lamps that shed soft pools of golden glow onto the sidewalk. It was about one in the morning and before turning in for sleep I leaned out one of my living room windows to enjoy the quiet, the fresh air, and the soft light of the street lamps. Suddenly something small sprang from the bushes growing against the wall of the house opposite. Ah, I smiled to myself. As I guessed, it was the cat who lives further down the street and who is a night-time wanderer. He paused on the steps dividing two sections of lawn and then proceeded to walk gracefully down the six steps to the sidewalk.  Again he stopped, turning his head to look north and then south and only then resumed his slow almost regal walk southward. Upon reaching the next house, he paused and looked up at the lighted porch of the house as if checking for any movement, anyone about. But no, nothing there.  He started his slow walk and again at the next house performed the same ritual...stop, look up at the porch, find nothing...move on.  After watching him repeat his "walk, stop to inspect, then carry on" I lost sight of him but knew that he continued his walk south to his own abode. It was almost as if he were the neighborhood watchman, making sure we were all safe and secure and there was nothing or anyone to disturb the night. I felt I had shared a few intimate minutes with that little furry creature, a solitary cat and me appreciating the silence and the dark.

OF LOQUOTS AND LITTLE PLEASURES