A fly has taken refuge in my house, and when I open a window screen to let it out, the fly recoils back into the relative coolness of the room. The cats are all sleeping. I feel like joining them in the oblivion of a nap, but I don't want to wake to evening darkness yet again. The watermelon is all gone. Perhaps I'll make iced tea, and perhaps it will help keep me awake through this soporific afternoon.
A white bit of fluff drifts across my yard, carrying the seed of some plant. Now there's a thing that likes the heat. I'll imagine I'm floating with it, off to some spot where I'll bury my feet in a cool bit of damp soil. There, that's better.