This is for Margot.

These days, I am basking in the sunshine that visits Paris. When I first arrived in Paris and the gray and the rain were indefatigable, I read a story by Ray Bradbury called All Summer in a Day. It is a story about a class in which no one can remember a time when there wasn't rain. All but Margot. She can remember because she is from a place where the sun shines. Extraordinarily, the sun shines for a brief moment in the story, and, cruelly, the children lock Margot in the closet and bask in the sun while she is still in the dark. I think of Margot and her plight when the sun is cruel and doesn't shine. More aptly, I think of Margot when the sun shines. When the sun appears, he brings lovely apparitions everywhere, spaces of darkness and blocked light. I love shadows because they necessarily mean sun. They inspire because even if they are darkness, they signify light.