There’s a house I pass every morning on the way to drop my son at school.
Sometimes the cat appears in the left window, perfectly balancing the stuffed animal pressed into the right.
The whole scene feels frozen in time, a quiet relic from the 60s, worn but still standing with so much heart. I’m drawn to the little details: the scalloped trim, the soft shadow the roofline casts as the sun climbs.
Small moments like this remind me to look closer. To appreciate the things that don’t ask to be noticed.
