★★★★ Little curls of cirrus were supplanted by little pointy lumps of cumulus, of roughly the same size and aspect. The sky was bluer outside than it had looked from the window. The five-year-old held the sack of bread and cookies while three packets of sugar were being sprinkled into his iced decaf. The clouds got larger and stretchier. When they predominated, the breeze through the window was better than air conditioning. There was still enough sun coming and going to discourage most shooting at the basket on the south end of the playground, but the left block was securely in the shade. The five-year-old set up there to work on his scoop shot, the only shot available to his short arms. Over and over, the red-yellow-green-blue panels of the ball spun against the deep blue and white in the airspace above the hoop. Every now and then it dropped through.