55.

I've spent an unusually silent day today, mostly reading and napping. The occasional phone call or tweet. I haven't done anything that made a lot of noise, and I've left music and the TV off. So what I've noticed is the arthritic life of my apartment, and the madscrabble life of the crows who live on the roof. In this cold snap, I've left the heaters on all week. This old building snaps and crackles as it breathes all day long, including an odd series of quite human-sounding sighs and adjustments for a period of 20 minutes this afternoon. I've noticed that the crows sometimes actually run across the roof before launching themselves into the air, and that they'll walk over to the edge of it to carry on a squawky conversation with birds on the other side of the street - just as you might walk over to your fence to talk to your neighbor. It's rare that I don't have some form of entertainment or distraction or work-with-noise happening in my space, but I liked how it felt, being encompassed by a space as it went about its business.