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There is a certain melancholy in returning to one's empty house after a holiday. The cold stillness of a house untouched for two weeks, a stark emptiness lacking the day to day clutter of life. A small pile of cat vomit on the floor, a long night of meowing, a day of replenishing groceries, gathering mail, unpacking, remembering where everything is. Out on the balcony though, there is a touch of spring, a spark of warm color to say welcome home.