In the shady postage stamp of our backyard on Rural St. in Indianapolis, the Hollyhocks are in bloom against the rusty wire fence & I am on the swingset, joyously swinging really high on a summer day on which fat puffy sheep-clouds float in a bright blue sky. I notice that the sun is bright & then it's not, but I am 5 or 6 years old & don't understand that clouds float between the earth & the sun. I am sure that God has a celestial light switch that he flips up & down. He's watching us on his God TV & when we are bad he takes away the sunlight but then he loves us again & flips the Big Switch up.