The sun feels good on my feet. I’m sitting on the back porch, witnessing the shade shrink as the sun makes its progress across the sky. This morning it was tufted with puffy clouds, but now the sky is cerulean blue and streaked with washes of white clouds, as though watery paint is being moved over its surface, blown by an artist’s breath as it squeezes through a straw.
The kids swept the porch earlier, but another once over is needed, maybe even a good mopping, but I have other chores that await, too, inside.
My one day off a week.
It’s the kind of day that wants to keep me outside, with a good book (which I happen to be reading), in the shade. My feet poke out and rejoice in the sun. It isn’t too hot; a cool breeze is keeping things comfortable. Sometimes I can even smell the ocean in the air.
I am visited upon by a dragonfly the colour of fire. It flashes in the sunlight, alights on the tip of a banana leaf for long enough that I am able to scramble inside to grab my phone. Patiently it waits, posing for the camera, and as soon as the shutter snaps, it is airborne again, off to set fire to someone else’s day, to bring them a much needed message, if they pay close enough attention.