I went to the park with Calliope and Ruby yesterday. We chased balls, went on the slide. Well, Calliope did, anyways. I'm too big for the slides anymore.
The first time we put her on a slide in the park, lo these many months ago, we had to tempt her to scooch off the edge at the top, and then she'd hang on, dangling and twitching, until we convinced her to let go and plummet, smiling like a jack o lantern, into our arms.
Now she pushes off as soon as we put her up. She was so quick yesterday she pushed off before I could catch her and ended up on her butt on the rubber mat at the foot of the slide. Which she loved.
She fell and smashed her lip on her ball three times in thirty seconds, protesting "Down, Down" each time we picked her up to blot the blood. The third time she was wiggling to go back and play, but we decided that our nerves couldn't take it anymore and headed home. She is tough. We are fragile.
Still and all, I had a great time. The weather was wonderful. Calliope radiates energy like a little sun when she's having a good time.
What was really soothing was being around a lot of people. There is a point at which a crowd becomes a landscape. The noise and look of different people, both physically and sartorially, surrounds you and begins to blend until you are unaware of them as separate entities. They become a natural body of movement and rhythm, like waves or clouds or the sound of rain on the roof. The spent silly string on the asphalt added a dash of color. It was very pleasant. I worry less about the composition of the crowd, anymore, and just appreciate them for being there.