It's late in the day and still hot. Forty degrees hot.
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Early in the morning, about seven o'clock when the air was still relatively cool, probably 26 degrees, we slipped out of the house and walked through the ti-tree lined avenues. Not many people about. An elderly lady was walking away from the shops carrying a bag of groceries in each hand. A Labrador was walking beside her, holding his leash in his jaw, just to help. She didn't have a free hand and he knew. I love the way they know.
*
Early breakfast at the Blairgowrie cafe. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Coffee. Then across to the beach for a dip before the sun got too far up the sky. Other people had the same idea and children were running into the water, still warm from yesterday's heat. William loves the water, loves the sand, loves the seagulls. Home by ten thirty. Into the cool house.
*
About three in the afternoon the heat was intense and thick. I was lurking in a corner of the garden on a lounge, trying to read a book and reading the same sentence over and over. Then I put the book down and saw a butterfly struggling in a spider web in a dark corner of tangled ti-tree and ivy. I took it off gently and it wobbled off into the hot air. They only live, what? twenty-four hours? a week? Why let a spider shorten it. There are plenty of flies around.
I fell asleep for what seemed minutes and when I opened my eyes the sky was gold like sundown. It was only minutes and it wasn't sundown. Smoke had plumed and billowed up from a bushfire across the bay and followed the north-westerly down our way and covered the sun and made everything pink orange gold with a black menacing undertone.
There's a cool change due this evening. Good. But it will be accompanied by strong winds that could fan the bushfires. Bad. We'll see.
*
Ignore the dateline. It's late Sunday here. My dateline is still fixed to the default time for Blogger which could be Mars Eastern Standard Time for all I know.
*
Early in the morning, about seven o'clock when the air was still relatively cool, probably 26 degrees, we slipped out of the house and walked through the ti-tree lined avenues. Not many people about. An elderly lady was walking away from the shops carrying a bag of groceries in each hand. A Labrador was walking beside her, holding his leash in his jaw, just to help. She didn't have a free hand and he knew. I love the way they know.
*
Early breakfast at the Blairgowrie cafe. Scrambled eggs. Toast. Coffee. Then across to the beach for a dip before the sun got too far up the sky. Other people had the same idea and children were running into the water, still warm from yesterday's heat. William loves the water, loves the sand, loves the seagulls. Home by ten thirty. Into the cool house.
*
About three in the afternoon the heat was intense and thick. I was lurking in a corner of the garden on a lounge, trying to read a book and reading the same sentence over and over. Then I put the book down and saw a butterfly struggling in a spider web in a dark corner of tangled ti-tree and ivy. I took it off gently and it wobbled off into the hot air. They only live, what? twenty-four hours? a week? Why let a spider shorten it. There are plenty of flies around.
I fell asleep for what seemed minutes and when I opened my eyes the sky was gold like sundown. It was only minutes and it wasn't sundown. Smoke had plumed and billowed up from a bushfire across the bay and followed the north-westerly down our way and covered the sun and made everything pink orange gold with a black menacing undertone.
There's a cool change due this evening. Good. But it will be accompanied by strong winds that could fan the bushfires. Bad. We'll see.
*
Ignore the dateline. It's late Sunday here. My dateline is still fixed to the default time for Blogger which could be Mars Eastern Standard Time for all I know.
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