Heat

Wearing only the thinnest, thinnest cotton dresses.
Walking the dog before seven, when the day is new and fresh. At half past eight it starts getting hot, at height it´s too hot, at half past eight it´s unbearably hot...
Escaping to the shadow of the house...Shutters closed, the fan on. The fan keeps the flies off me as I am writing.
At noon I am exhausted and could kill for a cold beer or a glass of white wine with ice.
Siesta. Dozing, not sleeping.
A late afternoon swim on a shady beach. White sand, turquoise waters that turn darker and darker as cooler it is. Rocks with pine trees and olive trees hunching over the sea. Incredible beauty.
The black velvet sky, star-specked...
Sleeping under the stars.