Sunrise and steam rising, last week before the heat, before, sadly, having to turn the A.C. on before lunch or risk melting into a puddle. I partially blame the hormones, though. Slick of moisture glistening on my now alien brow. It’s why they are called flashes. But then, the garden – plants and sprouts, doubling, even quadrupling in a matter of days.
High summer is what it is. And my complaint is only minor. For the starlit walks are gleeful and quiet, shirtsleeves and sandals, the whoosh and tinkle of neighborhing sprinklers. Dogs bark and headlights rush, linden flowers scent the breeze. All good, all good.
And our Fourth of July bunless burger, topped with a green chile cream cheese conconction and dashes of chipotle Tabasco. The fries, oooh, the fries! First boiled, then broiled to get that crisp on the outside, fluffy on the inside texture of perfection, at least for us.
I hope you are surviving and even thriving, in the heat, in the uncertainty, in these often dishearteing times of illness and joblessness and racial inequality, with hope, always, hope, for a better future for us ALL.