To me, the end of a heat wave feels like awakening from a feverish dream I didn’t realize I was trapped in. It went on for four days and hit 100 once or twice a bit earlier in the week. I hold all those who suffered across much of the country in the light.

I thought of the poet Danez Smith, a brilliant poet who wrote this in his poem “acknowledgment.”

“I watch the flowers closely to see how they survive the heat and try to mimic them.”

I did the same thing. It worked for me.

This comes from Smith’s  2017 poetry collection, Don’t Call Us Dead. It’s a gorgeous, heavy, and deeply resilient line about looking to nature to figure out how to endure the most grueling conditions.

We don’t usually confront those on the farm, but this year we did in the brutally cold winter and now, the record-breaking hot summer. Somehow, the flowers give me strength.

I’m going to follow Smith’s lead and get some strength from the flowers; all of ours survived the 100-degree heat.

My dream is over. I did get sick when I went out to take photos, as I was warned I would, but I spent a lot of time in air conditioners and fans. I’m better today. I knew the photos would be sweet because the sun would be so strong. I love taking pictures in that light. So take a look. To me, I’m awed by the dream and took some photos I love. It’s the first time I took photos outside in that kind of light. It was sweet. Take a look.

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When it gets hot, Zip disappears and hides in one of his made-cool hideaways. Barn cats know how to do that. This morning, he showed up on time for work, King of the hill.

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