6.21.2004

The solstice stretches ahead like a long hand with quick fingers, and I imagine yellowed ivory piano keys, or the stings of a guitar.

What long days, the sun hangs in the bright blue haze until ten o'clock and then sets blazing. The wind dies when the sun drops into the ocean, leaving the earth hushed and still, leaving me feeling like a cat listening for a mouse. The heat dissipates by midnight, rising through the eaves, and the house creaks as it cools and settles to slumber.