Anvil Days

[rejectomorph]

Not even the deepest woodland shade provides adequate respite from the heat. I lurk in the house all afternoon, windows closed and drapes drawn, conserving as much of the morning coolness as possible. Should I venture out for a moment, I find the day still, the sky free of birds. In the evening, the heat which has gathered in the attic begins to seep through the insulation and penetrate the rooms. Then I turn on the air conditioner, and the welcome chill spreads through the stuffy rooms. Thus, even by full night, when I go outdoors I am struck by the stultifying atmosphere. This is not yet the hottest summer I have endured in this place, but it is coming closer to being so each day. As I pass through the dim rooms lit only by the glare of sun through the drapes, my thoughts are of cooling sea breezes and open views, and of night, for which I eagerly wait.