I keep on opening windows around the house even though the desire to do so puzzles me at times.
When I sit in my living room, I open the window if the weather is even close to warm outside. It seems like a nice way to invite life into the house. Sometimes though, doing so has no effect. There's no wind outside, there's no breeze inside, and I end up disappointed to know that it's not only the inside of my house that's short on liveliness.
At night, I open a bedroom window. Sometimes I warn my poor husband (who sleeps closer to the window) that it's probably going to be cold. I get what I deserve though because, while he can sleep with the cold, I am a light sleeper and wake to a number of sounds. There is nearby traffic (sometimes it seems to be motorcycle racing), newspaper delivery people (who have been to known to talk loudly on their cellphones) and those annoyingly chipper early risers, the birds. I remain undeterred despite all these things but I do miss sleeping. I get kind of tired.
There are occasions, though, when the pleasure of an open window is readily apparent. It is wonderful to be near a window when a light breeze blows, and we can feel its gentle caress and the slight change in temperature it brings, We feel a part of nature and a connection to the world outside. At those times, it is perfect to have an open window and it makes up for all the other times that it's less than ideal.
I opened the kitchen window as I worked on this entry. The only reason I'm home is that it was too cold to sit and watch my son play baseball so the air coming in here is a bit chilly. It's nice though. And, wow, there's a bird still singing. Tonight I will leave the bedroom window closed. I trust that all the usual things will happen outside but it might be good to miss out on them for one night. And to get a good sleep.