The cat that's been hanging out on the roof across the street all afternoon is now trying to catch a bird that just flew in under one of the tiles.
There's a beautiful sunset to the West, and beautiful mountains to the East, still snow-capped and rosé-tinted from the setting sun.
The air is perfect: cool and refreshing after a hot, sunny (beautiful) day, but still warm enough for me to be sitting on our balcony in my shorts and not much of a top...
There are swallows circling overhead and I can almost forget I'm in the middle of a city (albeit in a sweet barrio that's generally quite calm).
The cat continues to wait out its prey: I think there is a nest under there somewhere.
The reds and oranges are turning to purples and greys, and the cat waits patiently, haunched and ready.
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