France--and the cheerful, floaty state I was in when I went there--are now a few weeks in my past. We had a wonderful time there. I already knew that it's a remarkably hospitable country, but what I hadn't known was how much France loves young visitors. O got special treats and attention everywhere we went. All of this left him in a tricky position, in terms of self-presentation. He is currently trying very, very hard to be a hip, uncaring teenager (though he has a year to go)--but that's so hard to pull off when people are being very nice and attentive, and so quick to offer fun activities. It was fun to see the 11-year-old break through the carefully cultivated teen exterior, again and again: sliding full-tilt down the summer luge at Chamonix, feeding pet deer in Burgundy, playing with new friend B in Lyon, making like a gargoyle hunched on the rooftop of Notre Dame...

Today, in traumatized, post-election Seattle, I feel a world away, and struck by how softly sad everyone's eyes look. Perhaps it's a stage of grief that my liberal city must pass through. People look like the harbor seals I used to see when sailing in Prince William Sound years ago. There, each evening, we'd be followed into our chosen anchorage by a seal, quietly regarding us with eyes nearly brimming over with what seemed to be deeply felt sorrow. I'm seeing those eyes again today, on the bus, in the yoga studio, in the Grateful Bread cafe, where I stopped for tea and a muffin after class, then along my walking route to campus.

For myself, though, I've begun to feel better. For the past few days, I've been in and out of depression, having trouble concentrating and speaking, needing to sleep and lacking energy. Today, though, I've begun noticing the beauty in the world, in the same way one does when emerging from a bad illness. Just the smell of the coffee I made after waking up in early morning darkness! Then a yoga class filled with favorite poses! A warm carrot muffin! And, as if that weren't enough, a favorite walk across Ravenna park on its series of footbridges. All around me, sunlight shafting down through yellow and brown leaves, and my own feet making crisp swishing sounds through the fall leaves. Not all is right with the world just now, not by any means, but today I can see again how filled with beauty it is.