The water was not running in the faun fountain at the Rose Garden and Bethany could climb to the top basin--about 9 feet up.
(She'd taken her dress off expecting she'd get wet, but she loves running around in her undies anyway. "They have ruffles!")
(That is to say, I could help Bethany climb up. I wouldn't mind getting wet if the fountain was on, but it'd be dangerously slippery.)
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Yesterday was Pentecost, one of the coolest and firiest of holy days, the finale of Easter when the Holy Spirit descends in tongues of flame. I went to the Basilica for Mass for the first time in years because Marz was doing a thing there.
The Basilica always does a great job with liturgy, and yesterday they pulled out all the stops--processions with banners and bells; pots of incense; full choir, organ, and brass; and at the very end, orange, yellow, and red rose petals fell from above.
I felt the same as I feel when I watch the Olympics:
EXCELLENCE IS POSSIBLE.
[UPDATE: Deleted rant about work]
HUMANS CAN CLIMB UP. (Helps if the water in the fountain is off and stays off.)
You can get 20 volunteers carrying banners to synchronize their movements. I worked at the Basilica for a year in 2002-2003, so I noticed the gestural cues--the small eye movements ("go now"), the slight finger movements ("that way")--it was so sweet to see the care and effort, just to create beauty. (There's no "just" about it---beauty heals.)
Marz says it reminds her of happy days in Band Camp, when they spend hours and hours practicing turning left.
The thing is, I am encouraged. Whatever my beleaguered workplace can or cannot do, chooses or chooses not to be aware of,
I can climb up.
I do that a lot at work, in little ways--last week, putting down a new rug and covering a bookshelf end. Whenever I do, customers say how nice it is, how much they appreciate it, and that's the best reward. Management usually doesn't notice, which means they don't stand in my way either. And so I can carry on.
Head on fire!