A cat to spare and pre-concert scribble.

Today, cats rule the hill. Below my bench I emptied a cup of leftover pasta. I figured that some crows would discover it sometime that afternoon. Only a moment later, however, did a young tabbycat cross the leaf-carpetted street, following her nose to the clump of tomatoey noodles. They did not seem to suit her, though. Immediately after devouring one by my foot, she turned to the neighboring grass and nipped off a few of the most accessible vomit-inducing blades. I didn't think that batch of pasta was especially good either. Whole wheat is always too dense.

This all occurred without any personal acknowledgment from the cat until, like anyone trying to catch a skulking feline's attention, I hissed gently through my teeth. She froze, beaming the yellow lanterns of her gaze at me before swiftly jumping into my lap. 

The unexpected visitor enjoyed my puffy coat's warmth, cushioning, and concealment. Whenever a sniffing dog was ushered round the bend and down the road just in front of us, she shrunk lower into the space between my protective embrace and behind the blind of my crossed legs. 

I tried to write, but she attacked my pen and paper. She even tried to sneak a sip of my coffee. So I gave in to being an attentive massage-chair for the time-being.

Cats seem to live strictly from one sound to the next. And most sounds, judging by the way a cat's emotions pique from them, are heard as fate's knocking or the clattering of apocalyptic hooves. The wind blowing dead leaves around was treated as a serious omen for my candid cat friend. And the people rolling suitcases down the street or slamming their doors could all have been conspiring with the devil. A whole neighborhood of evil noises-makers. A large tree-trunk (which must also have created some type of disquietude-you'd think) was spontaneously attacked with a leaping assault of unsheathed claws. 'Shut up, you sinister tree!... or I will cut you down one scratch at a time!'

When the most fearsome canine was spotted zig-zagging his way up the hill with his obese keeper in tow, my accessory ran to the middle of the street some thirty feet ahead and crouched provokingly in full view. Are all animals with alpha-attitudes born under the assumption that they are the largest beasts walking the earth? I suppose that hiding from the dogs who had already trotted our way was done to prevent any association with those possessors of such short legs and dull teeth. Only the largest canines were worthy opponents.

The woman and her German Shepherd froze. The dog about to spring through his collar and the woman to turn back. My pen had just run out of gas, so I scooped the suicidal feline up with my free arm and carried her down the steps in a different direction. After a fair distance, I set her back on the ground and continued to our apartment where the door made an nasty slam behind me.

Nov 2

Hoping not to be removed from the church concert I have snuck into. At least two hundred other people  are crowded into this age-old church on a dark raining night. An introduction to the music being given by an unamplified speaker. I don't understand anything specific, but the sound of so many ears stirred by the single, acoustic voice is clear. The audience chuckles occasionally.

Painted white stone. It is suitable for a place of hope and sanctuary in the darkness of Bergen's Winter shadows. White walls, not grey stone or murky carvings. On this particular night, I can appreciate the sense which may not have existed in thought until now. Though, many other Norwegian churches are dark with a structure hewn only from bare wood. Staves. And they were once attended.