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I recently transferred my work space from the large bedroom to the living room, and now that there are more than a few hours of light in the day, moved my living room desk to sit in front of the small window.

Thus my desk overlooks the courtyards of the neighboring apartments, which remain unpeopled as they have been since our arrival. I admit, there are times when I have wanted nothing more than to shimmy down into their courtyard and bask in the grass (our courtyard is better tended, but with rather less grass. Also fewer thorn bushes. I admit, last September it was a near thing, as some scaffolding was neatly installed next to our giant kitchen window, rendering both descent and ascent easy. I thought I would save the questionable behavior for later in my stay, however. And now that later has arrived, I postpone it further in hopes that spring will bring weather I actually want to spend time in. You can’t see it, but some of the brilliance of the greenery is caused by a nice sheen of moisture. January (/Spring/Summer/Fall) is dampish in Scotland, there’s no use denying it.

le jardin secret

The view from my window, redolent of secrets and smoored* life waiting for spring, is enough for now.

Smoor: to suffocate or smother. Often used in reference to fire, in the days when one would bank the fire prior to going to bed to ensure coals remained on fire in the morning and the house didn’t. Obsolete or provincial English/Scots. 

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