Every night before I call it a night I do the regular winding down kind of things that most people do. I lay out things I need the next day: my work bag, my lunch bag, any things that need to be mailed, etc... If I don't do these things I rush around in the morning and leave later than I plan to. Not a good way to start the day. I also turn off all the lights downstairs, make sure the door is locked (which it always is--I have a "thing" about being home and having unlocked doors), pick up stray cat toys because my cats are slobs (wonder where they got that from?), head upstairs, wash my face (hands down favorite part of the day), brush my teeth and head to the bedroom.
Right after I turn the light off and right before I slip into my unmade bed (I'm really bad about that) I stop and move the curtain of my bedroom window enough that I can look out over the lawn. It's dark, the property light from the adjacent apartment property, and usually the moon, light up the area enough so everything is clearly visible. I'm on the second floor so the view is more sweeping than if I was at the patio door downstairs. I love how the moonlight illuminates the lawn that surrounds the property. I especially like it when it's snowed and it's white and clean-looking, but lately have found the bare, brown grass to be comforting for some reason. It's dark outside, so it doesn't really look bare and brown.
Each night I do this, and each night I look for something that might have changed, something that might look a little different. I wonder if I'm looking for something in particular. I haven't determined yet if I am. It just feels like I am looking for some signal that no matter how things change, they always feel the same.
Time to go look out the window.