I spent the last evening sitting in the tall grass near home, watching the light and clouds repaint our valley again and again. The sunlight played across the landscape like moving spotlights, constantly reshaping the view. Each moment brought a new version of the same scene—until one particularly cheeky cloud drifting over the French Alps (a truly French cloud, if you will) betrayed me by cutting off the light entirely.
Meanwhile, my youngest had asked to watch a movie and ended up with Don’t Look Up. He found it absurd—mostly because Leonardo DiCaprio, whom he had only just met as the lackluster Gatsby in the school-mandated remake, was now playing a flustered scientist. He couldn’t reconcile the idea of “Gatsby” in a role like this. Poor kid doesn’t yet know that Hollywood’s actor pool has become so shallow that the same faces are constantly recycled, shoehorned into whatever roles the studios think will sell.
Anyway, I digress. The point is: I did look up—and I’m glad I did.
