matching tracksuits

I’m certain that somewhere, in all the notebooks she kept, Simone Weil wrote something applicable to today, something that I could pair with the pictures of the Boy and the Girl playing on the kitchen floor, the Girl pretending to teach E how to bake.

Perhaps she wrote something about the importance of play, the relationship of siblings, or something equally profound. She does seem only to write about profundity in the journal excerpts collected in Gravity and Grace. With a title like that, though, one could hardly expect much frivolity. And considering her biography, it’s hardly surprising.

Still, it would have been convenient to look at the topical index and find “Play” instead of just topics like “Evil” and “Illusions” and “Self-Effacement.” How can I find any suitable quote from such topics to go along with the day’s pictures?

Perhaps if she’d had kids…

Sun. It's always there, they say. While living in Poland, I could go weeks, it seemed, without actually seeing it. Hidden behind layers upon layers of clouds, the sun's light was defused throughout the whole sky, a dully gray that made it impossible to tell the time of day. There were two modes: darkness and less darkness.

Lately, it's seemed like that around here. Gray skies. Rainy days. Cold and damp. Damp and cold.

And then, this morning.

Cloudless. Bright sky. Rich blue. And the temperature soars into the fifties, touches the sixties.

Everyone it seems is out. The neighbors' dog, an ever-thrilled, always-excited Spaniel, is out making its rounds. I would say "Everyone loves him," but I can speak only for my family: everyone loves him.

Everyone is out and about, including our dear little friend from up the street. The bare Crape Myrtles in the front beckon, and soon the kids are climbing, laughing, playing.

The promise of spring, the promise of afternoons outside, the promise of long evenings with golden skies.

It's all coming.