Solar storm

 It’s Friday night. I’m enjoying a Hemingway Daquari after a week full of client work (all of which has been well received). Last Friday, there was a huge solar storm, which meant I could see Aurora Borealis from my garden. It looked different from what I expected. Less colourful and more static, but impressive nonetheless. Charlotte and I sat back on the sunchairs in the balmy nighttime air and gazed up at what looked like a huge cosmic eagle or angel soaring across half the sky. Shafts of light in subtle pink and green hues emanated from a single point high above us. It reminded me of the beams of light coming through the windows of Grand Central Station in those famous old photos but on an even grander scale.


This morning, Ansel told me he could juggle and asked me to watch as he held two balls above his head and threw them in random directions. He was proud of himself, and when I tried to explain that the objective is to throw each ball and catch it in the other hand (giving him a live demo), he assured me I was wrong and that to properly juggle you need to throw the balls over your head. Who am I to argue?

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