There was a milky haze this morning, giving the half moon a halo. A single robin began chirping somewhere up the block when the sky had barely begun to pale. At that distance, the sound was not disturbing. Fewer birds are singing today. Perhaps the chill has induced them to remain huddled in their nests, or maybe word of last night's encounter of a fledgling with my cat has spread among them, making them more circumspect. Whatever the cause, the relative quiet is a nice change. Day begins placidly. A few thin clouds have now formed, and are flushing pink. I'm not expecting a reprise of yesterday's coolness. The solstice is only a few weeks away. Our luck probably won't hold out for long. The brain-wilting heat is bound to return, and the swarms of insects with it. Tonight, I shared the room with only an earwig and a solitary crane fly who sat quietly in a corner. Oh, and a cricket hopped in the front door when I opened it. If it doesn't find its way back out, most likely the cat will devour it. Well, better a cricket than a baby bird.