Heat

Grass crackles under my feet and trays of seedlings fry before they are rooted. Heat dominates by 8:00am and the usual clouds have fled to other locations. News is heavy with warnings: record-setting temperatures; thousands dead or at risk . A strange predicament, dying from heat in a country known for its rain and grey skies.

Agonising then, that our country is leaderless and “climate crisis” barely mentioned as prospective PM’s battle it out and sling arrows from behind their lecterns . We seem a strange self-destructive species, caught up in our own doings, fascinated by our inventions, reckless about the signals that are coming hard and fast. We will flock to beaches, down pints despite recommendations to lay off the booze, and endure whatever public malfunctions occur as a result of this heat. But will we get serious about the warnings?

I move slowly, sit to mediate, lounge on a sofa and read. Next to me, a silky dog puffs out her cheeks in a dream. We have been close companions for ten days. At night, she curls up on my bed and sleeps deeply; in the morning, she offers a shoe or a slipper to show her enthusiasm for the dawn. This cross-species connection feeds my soul, simplifies me, makes me long for a more intimate world.