It's sunny and bright but the grass is cool, and the radio's on, the classic rock station, and I'm lying on a towel eating popsicles while my dad hums along to Sympathy for the Devil.
It's cold and the blue sky is dazzling on the snow and my dad's tugging me up the hill in the sled, pretending like he's a sleigh pony, and I'm laughing and yelling, faster, faster,
it's raining slow and drizzly and misty against the windows and my dad drives me to the warm bright library
it's early and the sky's grey and pink and I'm waving at my dad out of the bedroom window while he pulls out our driveway, going to work, until he's out of sight
it's a storm, the winds whip branches against our windows and the sky is dark grey and my mom is panicking by the front door because it's late and my dad isn't home from work and he hasn't called, and I'm hiding behind the couch
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