I've been meaning to write something—anything—for a while now, but then Katie prodded me earlier today, so here we are.

Though, in my defense, the fact that it is summer would hopefully lead me away from my computer screen, to the outdoors, or to my living room, accompanied by a book. "Somewhere else," generally, feels better after a day spent working at a screen. A movie screen, despite technically being a screen, is a good alternative, too, especially when at movies like Up or Away We Go, both of which I very much enjoyed.

Baseball's been going well. We've improved considerably over the past few games, and if we can continue to score runs as we have in our past few games, I think we've got a legitimate shot at making the final playoff round at the end of July. Having said that, and being overly superstitious, I encourage you to knock on the nearest piece of wood. We can't take too many chances.

Superstition aside, it's been a fun season so far. I've transitioned more or less smoothly to center field, and as of yesterday I started to hit the ball with some sort of authority. Now begins the task of redeeming myself for my many, many feeble strikeouts and grounders from the first half of the season.

There's not much more to say. I've been able to ride my bicycle a fair bit, though still not as often nor as far as I'd like. Work is steady, and Thursday will mark the end of the first half of the internship. It's been interesting, and if nothing else, I can say that my appreciation for the difficulty of table tennis has never been higher.

Baseball means what those of us who hold it in our hearts need it to mean. It can be a pastime, or it can be something by which we measure the seasons of our lives, or it can be something that serves metaphorically for the battles, the triumphs, and the tragedies of any form of human content. I prefer it to be a game—and I think, more than anything else, it tells me that there’s something in the world that I can count on—and it’s never going to let me down. If there is a magic in baseball, I’m sure that’s what it is.

Ken Burns, from Baseball

Summer simply glides* along, and somehow it's mid-June. I ran into a friend on the sidewalk a little while ago, and we came to this conclusion after spending a few minutes determining whether it was last Thursday or the Thursday before that when we last ran into each other. It was last Thursday, for the record.

We've played three games so far, unfortunately with only one win to our name, but I can think of no better way to wind down the day than with seven innings of honest baseball. We line up for catch and shout bad jokes back and forth before the game, then pick up a bat and take some swings before the first pitch. The game's underway, and every struggle and success for the next seven innings is somehow contained in the ballpark, set aside from any sort of reality. It's absolutely perfect, and I wish I could do it justice.

I've been enamored with Neko Case's music for the past few months, and yet only recently stumbled upon the genius of her song At Last. It's almost a shame that it's so short; then again, I suppose it's just as long as it needs to be.

I can say that I've lived here in honor and danger
But I'm just an animal and cannot explain a life

Down this chain of days
I wished to stay among my people
Relation now means nothing
Having chosen so defined

And if death should smell my breathing
As it passes beneath my window
Let it lead me trembling, trembling

I own every bell that tolls me

* In David Copperfield one of my favorite chapters, if not my most favorite, XVIII. A Retrospect, begins, "My schooldays! The silent gliding on of my existence—the unseen, unfelt progress of my life—from childhood up to youth!" and I think that "gliding" describes it so, so well.