It's really beautiful here today, and it has been for the past few days. The grass is thickening up, and it's just starting to smell like a good time for reading on the porch swing. Last night, we drove to dinner with the windows open. The three of us had a really lovely time: a third-grader snuggled close to me, a silky oyster stew and thick bread, a tall glass of beer.
It seemed ridiculous that the night before, around midnight and just twenty minutes down the interstate, a sniper or snipers had set up on an overpass and fired into cars passing on the interstate. No one was seriously injured, from what I've heard. But it occurred to me what a mess everything is, that I can hold these two emotions: joy at the onset of spring and a lurking fear that the shooting wasn't an isolated occurence. (Update: police arrested two guys early this morning.) I don't know what it says, either, that the joy is winning out.
I wish I knew how to embed this, but I don't. Have a listen. It gives me chills in a good way.