one of those days which twists its way between the heat and the wet, constant humid air carrying the threat of thunderstorms, umbrellas carried against rain and sun.

on the mountain it's quiet, a scatter of thoughts refusing to align, a sense of distances. in the cat temple four dogs barking and growling, dispersed by the sound of wood upon stone.

the river flows, beneath hills cloaked in the grime of pollution, cyclists pass by while fish jump in bright arcs, sparkling towards the waiting sea.