That smell-I love it. The smell of outside, the smell of dirt and grass and flowers and air heavy with moisture. It feels so fresh and clean, it feels like towels rough from drying on the clothesline, it feels like the sunroof open and a good tune playing on a  winding country  back road. It feels like lying on a sheet in the front yard with my sister in the middle of the night, trying to escape the heat of the house, watching the bats' graceful swoop amongst the  insects  dancing in the street light. It smells like birdsong and the distant rumble of trucks and the warm air being pushed grudgingly by a fan.

 Around 5 pm, I shall loathe the heat with every fiber of my being, but with the morning dew still sparkling on the lawn, it is delicious.

Overnight my seedlings have been reaching towards the window like gangly adolescents, like rearing king cobras ready to strike. It seems as if I sit here long enough,if I am very very still, i will witness the turning of their heads to best catch the rays of the sun.