The cat and the wind: A small wind blows across the hedge into the yard. The cat cocks her ears - multitudinous rustling and cracking all around- her pupils dwindle to specks in her yellow eyes the stare first upward and then on every side unable to single out any one thing to pounce on, for all together, as if orchestrated, twigs, leaves small pebbles pause in their shifting, their rubbing against each other. She is still listening when the wind is already three gardens off