The sun was setting and the cool of the day

was comforting and delightful. The clouds were swirling around in the sky like ponies and animals on a carousel. The colors were grey and purple and going into black. The neon lights on the tennis courts were invigorating, reminscent of the first time I had spent an evening playing under the lights. Then, I was the 14 year old and in some kind of tourney. I remember my eyes adjusting to the artificial lights the glare of the ball on the lobs and the blind spots every so often where the ball passes a spot where your eyes can barely see it. The lights are beautiful and I am reminiscing again, but this is today and the handsome prince on the other side of the net is my Enoch. He is hitting better and better. I can't remember a better time that I have had under the lights. I must have won and lost 100 matches under the lights and win or lose there is no better feeling than hitting with my children on the courts. The children know that the courts are my living room and the lights bring out an interesting combination of remembrances. From tourneys at the armory to the bubbles at Alley Pond or Cunningham or just outdoors under the lights at Rochdale. I love that feeling of partial vision hitting. Its not the lights its the feeling of limited, vision. I turned around and one of the cloud ponies seemed to wink at me... almost?