And that was love.

Yesterday afternoon, the sun burned through the clouds, and I said the word “muggy” so many times it lost all meaning.

Then it rained, and after the rain, it was chilly instead of steamy, which surprised us. The clouds: low like a drop ceiling. The clouds pressed the sunset into the city.

Today we woke up to 58 degrees and sun.

I threw on a sweatshirt with joy.

“The jays are singing,” I told Bobina.

They’re not singing, they’re making a ruckus.

We locked eyes.

We stood at the window, looking out. Noses pressed to the screen.

*

At the Winner outpost in Prospect Park, a woman bought her grandson a fizzy drink.

“I’m tired,” he said, sipping, feet dangling from the chair.

“When we left this morning, we didn’t know we’d have such a long walk,” she said.

It was Tuesday. The weather was perfect for the first day of school, but it wasn’t the first day of school. It was the second to last day of summer vacation.

A panicked mother rounded the corner of the Picnic House, pushing a stroller. She called out a name. Her child came running.

“I went to the bathroom,” said the child.

“You have to tell me if you’re going off somewhere,” said the mother. “You really scared me.”

Another mother and her two children posted up at a table near me. While their mother laid out a checkered tablecloth, the children rounded up an extra chair.

“We saw a large nest,” said the grandmother, unrelated to these children and apropos nothing, “we thought maybe it belongs to an owl.”

“I’ve never seen an owl in this park before,” said the older child. “But it would be really cool if there was one.”

“Good luck finding it,” said the younger child. And then over his shoulder: “Or hearing it!”

The mother and children sat at the table now covered in colorful checks, and played a card game. Sometimes they paused to clarify a rule, the value of a card, and that was love.

A third mother parked a stroller with two kids just outside the cafe. She popped inside and came out holding an ice cream cone.

“Ice cream!” shouted the kids with glee.

“Will you help me eat it,” asked the mother. “Can you do that?”

*

PHOTO
The wall outside Amant, an arts organization in Brooklyn.

SOUNDTRACK
“Flesh and Bone,” Bear McCreary, Battlestar Galactica soundtrack

NEWS
I’ve applied for a residency at MacDowell. Fingers crossed!

Divinity School - intimate letters about living and dying - goes out every Sunday at sunset.

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