But these flowers seem to be doing just fine.
No matter how you look at them.
The gladiolas, too. They look mighty fine . . .
. . . from this angle. And from . . .
. . . this one, too.
And the rice fields. How much they seem to love these dog days. Every year there’s that day or two when you wonder if the green’s gotten as green as green can get—or whether that first bit of yellow has begun to work it’s way into the mix. Either way, it’s a fabulous color.
And maybe makes you a little more tolerant of the 36 degrees Celsius. (This cooling effect shows up in people to varying degrees, and in some, it’s totally unobservable—so don’t hold me to anything if it doesn’t work for you.)
Me, I just want to stand before a field and repeat the single word . . .
Green!
Green!
GREEN!
GREEEEEEEEEEEN!
While the clouds were out, I suppose things cooled off just enough for the horses to come out, too. I came across a herd crossing beneath an overpass. Maybe they’d just been watered. They looked pretty fresh.
Up along a river, I discovered lots of butterflies out and about. They seemed to like the heat . . .
. . . but then I saw some of them take some pretty long pit stops in slim-thin puddles. I wasn’t sure if they were laying down to drink more efficiently or to cool off their wings. (Flap your wings vigorously for ten to twelve minutes (at least enough to lighten your weight by a kilo or two), and see how much heat you work up.)
The plums can’t seem to get enough sun . . .
. . . but they’ve made a conscious decision to become umeboshi—dried plums—and are tickled to death to wrinkle up.
I don’t recommend this for you. Wear a hat.
The cicadas like to get awful rowdy in all this heat, but then again, once they’ve emerged from the ground—after a couple of years in the dark—and popped out from their larval exoskeletons. . .
. . . they don’t last very long. Sing, sing, sing, and die.
Me, I took the hint from the butterflies. I found a pool in the river and went in neck deep.
WAAAAAH!
KIMOCHI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And yes, thank you for asking. My persimmon tree is doing fine. We here at Persimmon Dreams love him dearly.