Lawn Chairs.

Seventy-six degrees and cloudless and even though surely it should be something chillier I do not care. My afternoon class hadn't read the assignment, and I largely couldn't care about that either. Played them a Brady Udall story off the radio and sent them outside to be outside. Now I'm holding impromptu office hours in the shade of the Chinese Fir and just trying to keep my head in something like the right place.

The good guys won. I just still can't get hold of that. It had been so long since we'd turned toward our better angels I didn't think we knew where they were any more. But we did, it turns out. We do.

The sun's so bright off the tree trunk right here I have to squint to see.