The summer mist is different.  On this morning it comes early, bringing with it a cool caress for the gardener and the early walkers, who stop and chat for a while.  Other mists cling and weigh the day down but everyone knows this one will be gone by ten.  Already, a new summer day is revealed in the first overhead patches of blue.  Another jewel is being crafted.

The gentle bogongs have come and gone.  Soon, the warm nights will hear the soft ‘thud thud’ of the Christmas beetle tapping against the window.  He seems to want no more than to crawl inside and lie buzzing upside down in the corner of the lounge room. 

The days are warm, the nights still pleasantly cool.  And above all, there’s the quiet, especially noticeable at night.  The distant roar of traffic, ever present in the city, is quite absent here.  No coastal humidity, either, to disturb your sleep and the cosy doona is still welcome at night. 

The birds know where the gardener has put their water.  While they drink and splash about, the gardener finds a piece of shade, pausing to watch and listen.  What to do next.  The garden will tell him.  After a short rest, it’s time to give the lawns some attention, mowing carefully around the remains of the spring bulbs.  The magpies assemble in the trees at five o’clock, and the evening concert performance begins.  Nature’s summer dance unfolds once more.  There is room for everything here.