There's no plot in the usual sense. There's a cat on a rooftop watching birds. There's a cat in a basement painting pictures. There's a mouse that laughs. There's a person who comes down into the basement. And there's a bird that flies away but promises to come back.
Freedom, it turns out, isn't always what it seems. Behind a beautiful flight there can be fear. And waiting isn't weakness it's a choice.

This, I think, is for anyone who creates anything. The fear that someone will come and take it away. That no one will understand what you're doing. That they won't even leave you alone here, in your own basement. For kids, it's probably pure joy. But adults, I'm sure, linger over each animation longer than they'd admit. I watched the swirling leaves several times in a row there's something hypnotic about it, calming.

The book doesn't preach. Just a cat on a rooftop, a cat in a basement, a bird, a mouse, a person. And QR codes that add a little magic. But after reading it, you want to slow down. And think about how freedom isn't always lightness, how waiting can be done in different ways, and how you can be friends with anyone even if you're a cat and she's a bird. <a href=https://www.igor-scherbakov.ru/stsenarist-ot-idei-do-ekrana/gorodskie-koty-kniga-gde-kartinki-ozhivayut-i-govoryat-yael-bergshteyn/><font color=black>Why "City Cats" gets to adults</font></a> The illustrations really move. I saw it with my own eyes. Don't forget your phone, otherwise you'll miss part of the enchantment.

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