Place #7

It is hot outside today--82 degrees!--and I am sitting in my back yard in my swimsuit, trying to tan after doing some laundry. The empty house next door got its grass cut today, so the air smells like gasoline and grass. It's dry, too, and the grass is prickly on my bare feet.

Sadie came out with me, and sniffed around for a few seconds before plopping down in the sun--something she rarely does in the back yard, usually preferring the softer carpet inside. I put some water out for her, but she just sniffs at it and walks away, panting. I've laid out a blanket for my feet (protection against the pricklies), and I've set my beach chair to lean me back just a bit. I'm wearing my sunglasses, and it is hot enough that they are already sliding down my nose, and sweat is lining my face, even though I've really only been out for about three minutes.

I'm suddenly aware of screaming from the yard behind mine. I cannot see over the fence I have, but it sounds like two young kids, one definite girl. The screaming couldn't have just started, but I don't remember hearing it before. Surprisingly, I do not hear any lawn mowers or edgers or leaf blowers.

The tree in the other neighbor's yard keeps moving in a wind that I cannot feel. The leaves are flipped a bit at the top of the tree, a sign I always took to mean it was about to rain. This morning it looked like it might, but now the sky is full of fluff and blue and I'm not too sure we'll get rain.

Sadie makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a yawn and gets up. She keeps looking up at the sky, and I wonder why. Is she hearing something I don't? Is she amazed at the sun? Are there birds circling that I cannot see? I can hear some, the usual songbirds, I guess. She wanders around for a while, and keeps going to the water bowl without drinking anything. She'll go to the shade and stand, and then go to the sunny spot and stand. This bothers me. I am trying to relax, but every time she moves the lead she is on wraps around my chair, and then she cries because she is tangled up. I unhook her.

Every few minutes a small breeze comes through. It feels cool and good and I take a deep breath each time. The air doesn't smell any different. I was hoping someone would be having a cook out, or grilling something up, but the air is just grass and heat.

Now every time Sadie moves I get nervous she is going to take off and run. We cannot win, and it looks like my plan to sit and relax is not going very well. I snap my fingers and call her over; she comes languidly, moving in slow motion. The heat is slowing her down. This is good. If she takes off, I will be able to catch her. Hopefully. She finally plops down in the sunny grassy spot and seems content to sit for a few.

It is nice to not have the annoying lawn mower and leaf blower sounds as I sit here. There aren't many cars going by either, so all the noises I hear are natural--the wind in the leaves, the kids screaming across the yard, the birds tweeting and singing around, the chair scrunching each time I move one way or another. A big bumblebee comes near my head every so often, and I prefer to watch its shadow dance around my head than look up at it and be blinded by the sun. The hum makes me nervous--it's awfully close to my head!--but I keep it cool and manage to stay in my chair.

We sit like this for a while, Sadie and I. Every so often Sadie moves and I tense, but she settles herself back down--sometimes in the shade, sometimes next to me--and we both relax again. When I feel the raw skin on my knee start to tingle, I decide it's time to go in. Sadie, usually running from in to out or out to in, ambles to the door and stands with her front paws right on the door track. She yawns, and goes up to my bed to lay in my fresh-from-the-dryer laundry.