a new month. the 8th month of the year. it is the height of summer. 10 o'clock in the morning. sunshine. 68 degrees. blue sky. one white puffy cloud. soft shadows. a cup of coffee. sunscreen lotion. a table in the shade. Saturday. one hour to myself before the schedule for today kicks in. dogs at noon. pizza at two. drinks at five. dinner at sunset. the first day of the month. it should be Sunday. maybe then i would pull out a comfortable chair and doze. I'm sleepy. but the errands this morning are tight from one event to the next and there isn't enough time to space them out. For 150 years it has not rained as much as it has in the 7th month of this year. the rising water flooded streets and lawns, gardens and meadows, houses and grave yards. now the water is subsiding. the first day of the new month is welcomed by bright sunshine. but who knows what the future holds?