soft air in Austin

The soft air in Austin is full of humidity, wet with moisture that acts like a balm on my soul. I love the desert mountains. I love the arid landscape resplendent with its various subtle shades of brown, ochre and rust, the faintest purple tinge to the mountains in the sunset. But there is something about being home that is a happy time. Of course, after visiting with other people’s cats all weekend, it’s nice to see mine, too. Robin has the most amusing fellow living with him right now, a long haired Tom with the strangest little quirk: the cat’s ears flatten out every time he meows. And, of course, my pampered girl cat is both glad to see me, and a bit disturbed by the other cat smells on my luggage and jeans. She’s just sure that I’ve been sleeping around. I’ve had to assure her it just isn’t so. There was a kitten biting my toes the other evening, but my cat has nothing to worry about in her sedate, matronly splendor.