Cold Spot

A colleague's office has a window which, when opened, brings in a refreshing breeze...if there is actually a breeze, weather permitting. He always has the window open; well, except when the grounds outside are being cleaned by super loud leaf blowers.

Anyway, whenever I stop by to consult or chat, I go to the cold spot. That's how I label the area by his window (blog photo is not his actual window) where I would stand to feel the breeze and look outside. Not much of a view, really, compared to my office but there is enough vegetation to make it feel like I am looking outside a lush garden. Besides, there is quite a drop from his window so there is a sensation and perception of elevation...the kind where I imagine to be looking out to an endless nowhere through trees and bushes, where I feel ownership of the view. It is especially nice when the sun hits just the right angles.

COLLEAGUE: Don't you get a breeze in your office?
ME: I do.
COLLEAGUE: Don't you open your window?
ME: I do.

I didn't tell him that the breeze from his cold spot is different from mine. His cold spot invites a full body wrap-around breeze; the type where I feel invisible curtains fluttering and where I imagine being energized (ala Star Trek transport) to somewhere.

It's his office, but the cold spot is something that I claim as my own.

COLLEAGUE: Cold spot??
ME: (Nodding, while looking outside and down the drop while on tiptoes).
COLLEAGUE: (Opened the window wider).