Today is the first in a forecasted series of 32oC days. I retreated indoors and closed blinds against the sun when breezes stilled and the motionless air outside became too heavy. Now slits of light leave stripes on the family room floor. Except for the occasional flitting dragonfly, there is no movement out in the hovering afternoon heat. It’s quiet in a siesta sort of way as if everything is hunkered down to wait for evening’s respite.
Then life will return to the garden and surrounding forest. Blackbirds and Stellar jays will shriek from their hiding places while hummingbirds buzz back and forth jostling for position at the feeder. As I lug the watering can around to thirsty plants squirrels will chitter at my intrusion.
There is a sensual peace to summertime – a lazy, hazy lull, a breathless waiting… perhaps it’s for the refreshing splash of a passing rain shower. I doubt there will be one this evening, though. Indigo skies are clear.
Does summertime heat immobilize you? Does it affect your writing? How do you stay cool?