The hot air is soft and round. It rolls past the open door of my studio and I want to open my windows and let it flow in from all sides. But that would mean taking off my storm windows and I want to concentrate on getting my Koi quilt finished.
The chicks peck the ground and rest in the shade in their crate outside my studio window. I can’t see them, but I know the sheep and donkeys are in the shade of the polebarn.
A fly urgently hums in my window. Bud reaches for it with a snap of his teeth when it buzzes past him out the door.
Seeds surf the hot breeze, the pollen attached to them swell my eyes and make me sneeze repeatedly.
Summer is over a month away. Summer is here, at least for the day.
My studio is still cool because my windows are closed. I pull the needle through the three layers of cloth on my Koi quilt again and again and again. My long stretches of yarn and punctuation where I’ll knot them seems to mimic the space between the cars passing by on Route 22.
Eventually, all the dogs find their way into my studio. Stretched out on the cool floor, they doze, their breath even and silent, compared the prick and puck of my needle and yarn poking its way through my Koi quilt.