Summer, here in Paris, is all about baseball. I know all about it too, having spent much time in left field:)

These days with the nephews grown, the cries of “strike” or “foul” probably echo as memories for my relatives and I barely write about baseball/don’t watch it, but I like the shape of that field and words like “home” and “base” and “safe.”

Safe is a really good word . . .