it is the kind of day when you just want to find a shady patch under a tree with green grass and sleep. somewhere that allows you to look across the vast expanses of dead grass to see the distortions of heat rising from the tan surface that used to be a lush lawn just weeks before. the slight breeze brings the smell of heat, dry heat, to your nostrils and you find yourself uncomfortably warm despite the shade. it's a breeze that blows hot across your face. feeling how it seeks to singe your lashes you retreat into the smooth tile floors of your home where it's not yet quite so hot and watch with morbid fascination as the day drains all life from the air. nothing will move until the evening. then life is a raucious chorus in the dim light.