When it’s so hot, even your proboscis goes limp.
At 2pm today it was 38°C in the shade at the back of our house. By 4pm, when the sun had come round, the thermometer was measuring 46°, and we were starting to worry that it might crack. This is not currently normal, but I’m very afraid that over the next few years it might become the norm.
I spent most of the morning sitting in the shadiest part of the wild garden, and this afternoon, when even that became unbearable, I retreated to the ancient stone tower in the middle of our house, and sat on the flagged steps. This was far from comfortable, but at least it was relatively cool. I’ve been thinking all day of people who had no choice but to work in this heat, and feeling desperately sorry for them.
As expected, almost nothing moved in our garden during most of the day. I found this Small Skipper sitting limply on a walnut leaf at about 9am, when it was already too hot for it to be bothered trying to fly away from me.
Tonight is forecast to stay above 22°, which is about the temperature at which I’d usually think it was a bit too warm to be doing very much. I’m now away to take my second shower of the day, put on a load of washing, and then settle down on the bed to read. Sleeping, I fear, is likely to be out of the question.
