There is such a flourishing of vivid Rio hues come the hot weather, come the calling of the sun.
Whether we are hot or not in this thermometer topping heat is entirely up to you, my love.
Come the eventide the hot weather is a more subtle song than earlier in the day, still up tempo yet smoother and more of a lullaby than blaring rock and roll.
In this hot weather the sun is our hearth and we can arrange our chairs in anyway we wish and be perfectly cozy.
Today the sunshine is in our bones, its heat radiating outwards into the bright day. It's as if the people glow, their aura so happy on these summer days. Oscar rests in the shade, his eyes on the foliage above, on each green leaf in that vast canopy. I watch him reclined in that dappled shade, a book resting on his raised knees, his eyes following the text as if it were the soft call of a lover. Before I've quite chosen what to do, my feet have taken me under that same tree, perhaps they longed to feel the coolness of the grass around him. And as he reads, I dream and the moments stretch out into a medicinal ambiance, made all the stronger for the heat, the brilliant light and the blessing of such company.
And there she sits, Aunt May, with her feet in cool water, drinking in the radiant heat of summer. She lets her eyes close in a way that appears restful, as if inviting Rose to imagine her dreams. It is in that way, with such calmness of souls, content to dwell in the ever onwards moment, that they feel the joy of each other's company. Summer winds move the deepening foliage, creating an ever-changing mosaic of light and shade, and with it the music that is born of such gentle movement, the steady soothing lyrics of nature close by, is melody and chorus all in one.
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