Strange weather yesterday. Most bizarrely, an unseasonable squall rolled in. And again. And yet again. Sunny skies in between.
During the height of the morning show, I sat with my ten month-old daughter in the engawa, screen open to the wet, and to the pyrotechnics. We sat looking out, picking up on what nature had to teach. At the subtle gradients of pressure. At the calibration of distance. At the variables in size, the raindrops leading Sora toward an understanding of big-Bigger-BIGGEST.
And most important of all was the lesson in impermanence, as the sun rolled back on through, lightening a face radiant with her new knowledge.
On the turntable: Peter Murphy, "Dust"
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