This morning I witnessed a remarkable escape. One of the feral cats came onto the porch where I was sitting, and he had something orange in his mouth. He dropped it nearby and I saw that it was one of the flowers from the trumpet vine that grows along the back fence, but there was something small and gray next to it. He poked it and it moved, and I realized it was a hummingbird.
Apparently the bird had stuck its head inside the flower to sip nectar, and the bird's view being cut off the cat had grabbed flower and bird together, like a feline fast-food burrito. But as the cat looked at me and proudly mewed over its prize, the bird suddenly stirred and took off, and though the cat chased after it the bird was too fast. I was delighted to see the bird escape, though the cat was somewhat crestfallen. He went off to hunt some more, but as far as I know caught nothing else.
The remainder of the day was, not surprisingly, anticlimactic. It got hot enough to be quite unpleasant outdoors, even in the shade, but the house never got above 74 degrees, and now has cooled off quite nicely with the evening breeze coming through the windows. I'm sufficiently not-exhausted and the kitchen sufficiently cool that I'll probably cook something hot for dinner instead of just eating the sandwich I had planned to have.
I do like cool evenings. Very much.