chased by the heat back up the mountains - a convoy of friends.

but it wasn't as cool as last time. the sun, when he found you, was blistering, so we followed the shade with our blankets.

'is there any air conditioning?', a.'s friend asked this time; a.'s mood deteriorated to a sulk. but pine cones were gathered into heaps, books read under trees, long walks taken to the edge of the precipice. and finally, rose ice cream, which lit up 5 little smiles.



( without a. )



saturday afternoon in our friends' garden
a cosy reunion at the long picnic table  +
a warm, comfortable feeling, not unlike relief.



retreating from the heat
we make owl calls, construct castles
and cardboard villages in a dark kitchen

(apologies for making you a little dizzy
but the target's always moving .      .      . )



the caper flowers closing for the night on the bushes that grow wild out of the steps of the abandoned house across the road  -
the bees were rushing in to get one last drink.

45.5 degrees today


some random crumbs to a favourite blog where i often stop
to catch my cyberspace breath  .      .        .         .              .               .                  .

(click on them - they'll take you there)



salvatore, sometimes also known as mr cat,
cooling down near the sky .     .       .

[there is also a mina + a molly but they prefer
to keep their feet on the ground]

i feel nervous before each holiday in case he is not there
when we get back - because once he wasn't, and it took 9 months
before he was home again.

                                                                               [photo by k.]


a place 'under the sky' that i would love to visit.



yesterday - a quiet, overcast day
in other words, a blessing  .    .    .

[ the greys are accidental but they did get me thinking
about making a puppet theatre for a. in the autumn -
romeo and juliet are already sleeping in a cupboard,
waiting for 2 small hands to wake them ]



a picnic in the old pine forest
where i spent my childhood summers
(one thousand nine hundred metres up, 15 degrees celsius down)
and when a passing cloud hid the sun
a.'s little friend said "somebody's just switched off the light"



the little breeze that suddenly picked up yesterday afternoon
on the central plain is still blowing, a respite from the heat.

the days are still, but the night air transports sounds
of prayer and wedding parties, children running along the street,
animals barking and howling at no one in particular.

and outside our local post office there is a pot of basil
for people to rub their fingers on as they go in and out -
the scent of our summer.