It’s hot. Really hot. Stupid hot. 49% humidity and over 100 hot.
My tomato plants are shriveling up into dry, brown, bits that turn to dust at the slightest touch. and even still, they are struggling to ripen their tiny green fruits. Bless.
The mint also seems indifferent to the heat, popping out tiny flower heads.
I, however, am not indifferent, and that’s ok. I garden first thing in the morning, before the heat and the mosquitoes really get going, and then I work inside where there are fans and air conditioning and cats.
I work, and I write, and I play with the prime lenses I didn’t even know I had.
And I dream of autumn…