Counterpoint

Well, it certainly is hot...

The sunlight, cast through the trees, pools on the deck (and these pages). It wavers there like water. Above, the sky is Robin's egg blue -- and the air is clear but dense. The heat gives it weight.

The weather-folk are saying that today might be the hottest day of the year, so far. I'm glad to be out in it, feeling it. I'm pretty sure that I felt the coldest day, back in Winter. This makes a nice counterpoint...

It feels good to draw sweat to the surface. And to drink cold water -- to replace that which blooms on the skin.

Finished The Harvest again. I really enjoy that novel -- and admire Robert Charles Wilson's skill as a writer. Back out on the deck, now, with a bowl of rice, topped with stir-fried soy steak strips. Tasty, if I do say so myself.

An ice-cold beer will be my after-diner treat...

It is nice to be away from the computer. Writing on paper. In the environment. Even if entering the heat is like slipping on a big fur coat.

The sun is lower now -- though the day is still bright. Those shimmering pools of sunlight have crept further across the deck...up the walls of the house. Sweat is once again blooming on my skin.

I am just leaning back, looking up at the blue, enjoying it...