I just saw something that made me think about how small details matter more than we realize. In a window in Bucharest, there were three cats, each in their own world, but the third – black and white – broke the indifference and looked directly at us. Behind them, a curtain with a printed landscape, mountains and a sunset sketched on simple material.

It made me reflect on something many overlook: when someone takes the trouble to arrange a window, even the simplest one, it’s an act of consideration for those passing by outside. It’s not just for the people inside. Sometimes there are plants, other times a hanging ornament or a craft that speaks to the city, telling pedestrians that they are being considered.

That printed landscape – like one of those HD black wallpaper backgrounds you see in digital design, but in a physical and modest version – has a certain beauty precisely because of its simplicity. The mountains, the valley, that drawn sunset. I think even Radu Jude, the Romanian filmmaker, would appreciate that aesthetic. The modesty of the material is part of its charm.

But what really stayed with me was the gaze of that black and white cat breaking the indifference of the others. Amid all that visual consideration – the curtain, the landscape, the window as a gallery – it was that small gesture of connection that mattered. Sometimes the details that touch us are not the most elaborate, but the most honest.