The way the sun sits this evening gilds the birds . There are silver seagulls on the wing . Their gleam will only be extinguished by the night .
Meanwhile I wait for Friday when , they say , the heat will abate .
Till then I languish . A melting ice lolly . languorous . lazy . Letting the book on my lap fall shut .
By the end of the week I should be able to watch the rain wash the dust from the blackberries and elderberries . For now though the preserving pan and my attendant plans can wait .
There is silence and a slight breeze to keep me occupied .
