the heat risen and rising further, hills lost in pollution a text warning of poor air quality, a morning of indoor tasks, of sloth.

afternoon restlessness, the humidity forming a sheen of sweat upon movement. back to the river, the underpass deserted, the first time i can remember when there's been no music, only the sounds of traffic passing above.

cycling back, dark clouds gathering, spots of rain, the promise of more, a welcome downpour but the water's warm and too brief to cool down the surrounding air.

and, as 2ndsaturdaystrollers pointed out, it's Yeats' birthday, this seemed like a good way to mark it...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lfzL1yLh9no