Baked, and not in a fun way. There was a haze over both valley and mountains all afternoon, with only a few small clouds resolving themselves from the general mass an hour before sunset. The distances were as vague as the listless breezes which now and then managed to flutter a few drooping leaves. Birds were nearly absent. The lengthening shadows of the pines seemed to take forever to cover the parched fields as the land turned away from the sun. Dusk at last settled like an exhausted dog flopping down for a nap after spending too long chasing a ball. Venus began to shine in the hazy sky, but the night air cools very slowly as the earth continues to release its gathered heat. The closest thing to wind is the fluttering of moth wings. Summer nights leave me nearly breathless.