The sky won’t reveal what it’s planning, thunder of artillery
in the distance, remarkably the ironed cloud uniform grey.
The sun spears through for a couple of minutes, I take full
advantage to catch snowflakes on a window, miraculous scenes.
The rain saved up, comes hard at once, as we are wondering
whether to walk to friends who are celebrating the longest day
with a fire, but it’s been hot and humid all day. I was working
in the garden before seven and still came in dripping wet.
We stay home, watch murders in the Shetlands
and eat ice cream.
