The shadow of a raptor rakes the sunny part of the yard. I don't look up, but take refuge in the deep shade of the mulberry tree. Even there the heat is intense. The upper leaves are a green fire and the brightness beyond them painful. I can smell the dry grass. When the air stirs, it does not cool. The stalks of the sourgrass are wilting and the leaves turning yellow, despite deep watering two night ago. I absorb the enervating heat and think about sleeping. I could lie on the brown grass and the birds would come to pick my bones clean and I'd never know.