October light does something to a cat's face. It finds the green in his eyes and turns it soft, the color of tea left too long on the windowsill. He came in from the cold with his fur full of static and his nose pink from the wind. Now he's on the warm chair, doing the thing cats do best, which is absolutely nothing. His whiskers spread wide, like he's measuring the room for naps. The windows are doing that gray autumn thing. Nobody minds. We've got a radiator. We've got a blanket with a hole in it that he loves. The season asks so little of us. Sit. Stay warm. Let the evenings get longer. He's an expert at this. Every year he teaches me again that comfort isn't bought, it's chosen. The kettle clicks. The cat blinks. That's the whole evening. Outside, the leaves are doing their slow letting go. Inside, we're holding on to nothing at all. It's the best kind of nothing. I put my cold feet against his warm side and he allows it. Kings are never this generous. He's the king, though. #catcozy #autumnathome #seasonalcomfort
