Inside it's cool but warm enough, well-lit, cheerful. Outside it is cold and rainy, grey, windy, dreary.
A sudden whump on the window alerts our attention. I'm quick enough to see a large winged body bouncing off the window. Was that a blinded owl? A hawk plucking a small bird off the eves? I peer outside, but I don't see anything on the ground. A hawk, I decide. Now only if the hawk would take out the groundhog making underground condos in our backyard.
The rain brings down even more loose leaves and plaster them them to the grass.
The cool air brings a distant wind-tunnel hiss of highway traffic.
Inside, the cats snore softly as the curl up on the fleece bed blanket. Cozy, cozy, they have no inclination to move.