Goodnight Moon

There is something wonderfully satisfying about walking in the neighborhood at night under a bright moon, seeing lights glowing inside houses.

Although it is a bit voyeuristic, I love seeing into peoples' homes through their lit windows as I walk along the sidewalk.* Seeing house after house, each one occupied by a family with their own story to tell, makes me feel part of something bigger than myself. I like to think of the simple joys that each family is experiencing in their own homes, cosy and warm.

The domestic rituals are so mundane and yet curiously meaningful because they embody what it is that makes a home--not necessarily the big things, but the little things in life. People cooking dinner, sitting around a table talking, reading a book at the window, playing the piano, washing up after dinner, putting on the teakettle... All these and a  thousand other things that say "home" to each of us.

Sunset from the sunroom

We have moved into the house and while it still isn't truly finished, we're beginning to enjoy our own domestic rituals again. It feels so good. Although I haven't yet unpacked all the kitchenware, there are a handful of mugs in the cupboard and we have our teapot and favorite Russian tea at hand. You see, it is our evening ritual to end each day with a cup of tea and maybe a small sweet.


Miss K's room at night as seen from the street

Maggy the Wonder Pup is at this moment asleep in her bed in the entryway, the kitties have each found a favorite soft spot, and we have the porch light on.

Goodnight house. Goodnight Sunset Hill. Goodnight moon. It's good to be home.


*MTH tells me that growing up in Russia no one ever left their curtains open at night--there was much more concern for privacy. He finds it very interesting that here in Seattle so many people feel no need to close the curtains. Is this an American habit? Or just a Seattle one?