Heat is now accompanied by a gathering haze. The haze is thicker in the valley, though it has not yet grown sufficiently dense to form clouds. Again today, the only clouds visible are those which cling to the distant ridges of the mountains. They seem not to change, though a nearer view would most likely reveal some activity. The activity here is confined mostly to the birds, who hop about the lawn, occasionally casting me baleful looks with their reptilian little eyes. The sultriness is not my fault, I say to them. They disbelieve, I can tell. The baleful looks continue. I don't care. I saw two butterflies this afternoon, who displayed no enmity toward me, and I was cheered by their presence.
Tomorrow is expected to bring some respite, though this cooling is not expected to last long. Hot days will soon return, and the nights, which thus far have retained some hint of spring-like mildness, will soon grow much warmer, too. The dread season has abandoned stealth, and advances in full fury. There is no more hope.