Cassandra Gardiner returns with this week’s offering. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
At dawn, outside sea-gulls squawk and caw, gliding and diving circling the ground in a target-centred show, replacing my alarm clock.
Sat here in the coolness of an open window, the breeze gently brushes my back as my hand glides across the page. The sun, high above, intense, a ball of erupting fire, dominates the hemisphere.
How long has it been since summer has blazed so brightly, everyday a sunny day. Afternoon activities moving to morning or early evening, as tropical temperatures reign.
Cooking like a duck
In the quietness of heat, as most shelter, walking to an appointment, burning sweat, moisture on my neck and face sticks hair to my skin. Little ripples of home-grown water merge at my waist, spreading from my chest. My feet and legs coating with fine dust lifting from the ground disrupted by the press of my footprints. Pausing for moments under trees, braving the sweltering heat of a midday sun. Feeling like a cooked duck, the thermostat 70 degrees plus, now understanding why foreigners always walk in the shade.
Returning home, peeling off damp clothes, straight into a shower of cool, running, water, perspiration, grime, and exhaustion float away. Retiring to a seat in the garden, in its glorious green, the light still bright, with a glass of chilled bitter ale, I sip pondering life in a climate of sun.
To read more of Cassandra Gardiner‘s work, visit her blog.
