Peaceful again. Madame has been and gone, and young Elisa has zipped off on her scooter with a tent strapped to her back; once more, for a bit, just Monsieur and me. It’s 9.30; we have had a simple supper, the laundry is drying on the line, the cicadas are chanting, the sky is pink and blue, and a tiny spider is busy spinning in the hibiscus.
Summer continues, bewildered but happy Torontonians out in tank tops, shorts, flipflops. On October 1 Lynn and I swam in