Drift 059 — The Open Window

One of my best views of the orchard is from the study, just beyond the north terrace.

When I came downstairs this morning, I noticed I had left the window open overnight.

The room was cooler than the corridor, the curtains still moving slightly in the morning air. Loose papers on the desk had shifted. A few had fallen to the floor.

Nature’s gentle touch.

Nothing important was disturbed. But the room smelled of pine and damp stone instead of yesterday’s work.

Somewhere below the terrace, I could hear the creek, louder than I remembered it being yesterday.

A less gentle touch.

I picked up the pages and set them back on the desk.

I left the window open.

Did something stay with you?