Ross inherited his grandfather’s binoculars when Grandma Evie moved out of her house last winter. They came with a handsome leather carrying case, and when you hold them they have a nice heft in the hand. They are cool to the touch. They feel solid and smooth (and in places a little nubbly). When I look through them I feel like a spy, or a hunter—breathing quietly through my mouth, walking one foot in front of the other, stalking the orange tea pot that sits on the kitchen shelf.