California Sun

The sun’s just different in California. It warms me up, like a plum and I’m always too red, no matter how much sun screen I try to put on.  Driving. Seeing fruit stands. Sun poking out between the branches of an Oak. Building a swing set, my brother and husband, together, laughing, working listening to smooth jazz — or something — not sure what that was — while the sun went down and the air chilled as it does out here, out west. Then, Maya had ice cream, and we tried to watch a movie…but only us New Yorkers stayed up.

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