The teakettle sits on the hearthstone, a dusty bystander. Silver, not real silver of course, the light of the fire picks up bright silver highlights around the lid, like moonlight. It sits there on its fat bottom waiting, arched handle at the ready with its black plastic handle molded to the fingers that would clasp it. A matching black plastic button of a handle in the center of the lid curls with use and over heating. Many times a day it is refilled and put up on the stove for tea. Now it simply waits. Sitting pretty you might say. She is not a fancy teapot but she is perfect and she knows it. Once she was sitting out on the curb, next to a tag sale as if she was too worthless to put a price tag on. But she was found by a very discerning woman. The kettle is like a cat who has found a good home. The woman has taken her everywhere, when she moved from the island, the teakettle moved too, when she moved to the forest, the teakettle moved too. That's what I mean; the teakettle has found a good home. A home where she is appreciated when she is in use and also when she is idle. She is not abandoned in shifts of habitation. It fact she lives just as a cat lives, when she sits by the fire, she meditates and lends her peaceful presence to the place. There are many stories of kettles that have taken on a life of their own, kettles that have crossed the line from inanimate object to living being. Such a kettle can go back and forth from being a thing to being a living being. The transformation has something to do with the keeper of the kettle. It is very mysterious how we humans can give life to something. It is as if the woman who gave the tea kettle a home has poured herself into the tea kettle just as she poured her tea, as if their daily interactions actually added up to the bestowal of life. It is not known if this tea kettle has any ambitions, some kettles have been known to go off and join the circus, but this tea kettle seems content with just being. It is wonderful to find a place to be.