Happy Friday, everyone!
The endless rains of the solstice have given way to muggy sunshine, humidity soup served up in great boiling scoops, with a side of lemon sun.
The cucumbers like it, though, eternally cool in their green shade. I found one among the leaves, and sliced it for breakfast.
Last night, Antares, alpha star of Scorpius, glowered through the murk, ruddy light insistent on reaching earth. I’ve been on this voyage for five hundred and fifty years, and I will land.
A Goldfinch has been after the purple coneflower by the sidewalk, and Smudge the horse pants in the heat of the day from the corner of his stall, moseyed inside to escape the glare.
“Yep, know what they call this, right?” Jimmy the neighbor drawls, stopping by to check on his horse. “The dog days, man.”
It was thought that the Sun’s conjunction with Sirius, the dog star, added extra sizzle to the days of later summer.
Stars everywhere, man.
Summer Jams
It’s time to load the records, heave the turntable into the car, pick out a festive shirt, and go DJ a party or two with the seniors in Roanoke. The sleepy countryside awaits roadside, dozing in the July warmth. Maybe I’ll see a train.
I’ve typed and deleted a lot of mediocre stuff this morning. God bless the delete key. There’s enough ick online. It’ll be good to get out and see real people, and remember their humanity.
Spinning motown records on a July afternoon is where it’s at.
Treasures from Earth
Dig this majestic piano concerto of Schumann’s on this summer day. Crank it up, and sip some iced tea! See ya Monday…