Ambient heat pervades the biosphere. Nightime sweltering skies sound soft, unless the rolling leviathan thunderheads move in, throwing fiery bolts and heaven-shaking booms that say, "Thor's hammer is here." The rising sun burns up the blustering buildup bullies. Later in the afternoon, the very same heat will recreate them over the Everglades when they'll begin their seaward march. But midday, things go hot and flat, save the leg-grinding droning chirp of Cicadas, cocky in the shaded sanctuary of seagrape trees.
The tarpon still are providing early morning excitements that break this monotony. But the vibrancy comes from dreams of mullet streaming down the coast, bringing the Fall Run Circus- the sooner, the better. The headlines this dawn announce actor Bruno Kirby's death and a resolute inner voice says once again, "make the most of this very tiny window" as the day's heat ramps up to pull the sweat from us all.
Jan
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