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on waking up almost-alone | plus! five current obsessions

It’s the birds that wake me, the birds and the absence of noise. Last night I pushed the window behind the bed open, and the sounds of the night - then the dusk, then the dawn - filtered into strange dreams. It is still early now, but the city has woken up. I can hear the screech of trains on the tracks, the distant rumble of trucks going about their business, planes overhead. Sometimes, living here feels like a scene from a Maurice Sendak book. I am trying to sit still between many things that are going.