Apex, Zenith.

It's gone all hot, like it's maybe summer. Really hot. As in: I can feel certain internal systems shutting down. As in: following lunch, I wanted badly for a nap. I can do a lot of things. Six things. Or seven. I cannot, as well as I'd like, do the heat.

It is, though, even to my own surprise, still not yet homicidally hot in the late evenings, such that the last two nights, post-dinner, AMR and I have sat out on the front porch and had nightcaps of various sorts with her visiting father. It could be eighty-five, I suppose, at midnight, and I'm sure it soon enough will be. But for now, it is still cooling off—or just dialing down—around seven or eight, is easing back just enough to leave a sliver of hope in the hearts of the faithful. And the tomatoes are growing. And the squash. And the decimated okra now finally has okra-leaf-shaped leaves. A body that wants to find the glass half-full still can.

Also, there's been a wind.

Summer. Officially, as of about an hour from now. Solstice. We celebrate here at ANYLF Global HQ with a sprig of mint. Celebrate out there in your own quarters with your own talisman of choice. Time to move semi-permanently to the short pants. Time to maybe trim the beard to some kind of summer length. Time to celebrate the excellent work of HVAC professionals everywhere. Time to add an icecube to the glass. Time, too, to remember this: tomorrow night, the light gets shorter. We aim now towards something entirely other.