The boundary between me and the world is about 12 inches wide. But in that 12 inches there is another, if smaller, world. Shadows cast by light falling across various things sitting on the window sill. Shadows that shift and change over the course of the day, the weeks, the months.
Two eggs from the neighbor’s chickens. Hardboiled. Lunch if I remember. Now and then I glance over at them, like small sundials tracking my time here on earth. Empty glasses and coffee cups, evidence of having done something. Bottles of different sorts. Strangely, no flowers or plant life, for reasons I can’t explain.
Some cups get repurposed, a tiny coop that keeps an egg from rolling off the sill and onto the floor. I see now how Sudek was able occupy himself with nothing more than a window and the things around him.