It was in the eighties outside when I left work at 4:30 today. My black truck had absorbed enough heat to melt what's left of the polar icecap. I rolled down the windows while the ac struggled to catch up.
Even in the city the air smelled fresh, so I left the windows down to soak up a little more fresh air.
The dogwood flowers have mostly fallen off the trees, but I passed places where the rhododendrons were showing out with scarlet blooms as big as basketballs.
I've really enjoyed being outside the last few days. Since Jilda didn't feel well this weekend, I worked in the yard cleaning up a winter and springs' worth of limbs, pine cones and sweet gum balls. I started the fire early Sunday morning and tended it most of the day. What started out a mountain of woody debris, was reduced to a small mound of sparkling embers by bedtime.
I'm not a pyromaniac but there is something primal and soothing about tending a fire.
I showered before I went to bed and I was whupped. I don't think I tossed or turned one time during the night. I was afraid I'd be sore this morning but that wasn't the case. Even if I had been sore, it would have been a small price to pay.
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