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I love my little home office. It’s really a pass-through between the side door and the dining room, but it’s all mine and it has three windows. The afternoon light in that room is lovely, and if it weren’t crammed full of two bookcases, two desks, computers and printers, I would have an overstuffed, comfortable chair for reading or napping. I am a big fan of afternoon naps, though I hardly ever get to indulge.
I’ve heard it said that one’s opinion of afternoon naps is a good indicator of one’s age. When I was a child, I hated naps. I fought them with the ferocity of a cornered porcupine. Now, I welcome the chance to spend an hour in a mid-day snooze. Either I’m older, or I’ve become less of a cranky porcupine and more of a pampered house cat.
My office is arranged with productivity in mind. I know myself well enough to face my desk towards the window with the least attractive view. It’s still pretty awesome, but it’s just a wall of greenery so it’s the window that is less likely to distract me from my work. Honestly, I have the attention span of a mosquito. The more stressed I am to complete a task, the easier it is for me to become completely engrossed by the tiniest twitch of a squirrel’s tail. I thought when I matured, I would be more organized, have more self control. Turns out I’m really just a 12-year-old with a mortgage. How’s that for maturity?
The window to the right of my desk, now that’s the one to watch. That’s where I placed my bird feeders. I have gotten hours of enjoyment observing the daily habits of our local birds and the showy seasonal visitors. The closest feeder is just a few inches from the window pane, the next only a couple feet away.
The first time I stood up to peer out the window, the birds all scattered. Over time, they have come to recognize me as the useful person who fills the feeders. I am tolerated by the regulars. I can all but press my nose to the glass now and no one moves a feather.
