summersun

i love that smell
you know, when the rain hits the hot concrete and gathers on top of the parched earth. after days and days of relentless sunshine and hot winds the southerly arrives in the rara republic with an attitude somewhat reminiscent of a child experimenting in a kitchen- random acts of clashing pots and pan lids of thunder...
a neighbour pops her head over the fence 'i've just heard from my friend down south- rain, hail. it's on its way'. we were prepared.
a good weather head knows the story- the dance of the gardener. sunshine, cooling nor'easterly- busy; building up, nor'wester, hot hot evaporative violent wind, lashing out, breaking branches. and then, this wind meets the sou'westerly change: the crescendo is reached. the sky now tells the story with colours, the cloud maker gets creative- deep grey almost black apocolyptic clouds.
tis not a good day to be a fisherman.
these summer storms are the bane of the gardener.

3 days into this calender year saw the citizenry up, as dawn cracked, and off to the beach, ready to beat the heat. yesterday was too hot for doing anything other than lounging about in the shade, or looking for a breeze and a book. we paddled in our paddling pool and otherwise sweated, rather pleased with ourselves that these days we're not as boozy as we used to be and don't have to try and recover from our newyears hangovers in the heat.

still makiing progress, p painted and sanded and built compost bins. me, i'm happy in the knowledge that i can have a bath now whenever i fancy

whenever i fancy.

so, newyears was spent with good friends and toasted with bubbles atop the sanddunes, looking out to where the world begins. we hope yours was similar.
xxx
b