After yesterday's torrential rain and a southerly breeze overnight, it was warm and muggy as I left for work. Birdsong was subdued in the predawn haze but toads trilled from a neighborhood pond; unfortunately, one reveller did not make it to the party, now smashed on the roadway and covered with flies.
Little moved in the morning steam bath. A few cottontails lounged in dewy clover and a group of mourning doves sipped from a roadside gutter, barely noticing as I trudged past, knifing my way through the thick, humid air. Only the chimney swifts, feasting on clouds of insects, seemed oblivious to the morning soup.
My half-mile walk seemed much longer than usual and it took some time to dry out in my air conditioned office. The summer solstice may still be nine days away but, when it's a humid 75 degrees F at 6 AM, the season of heat has indeed arrived.