After a summer of rain, the shrimp aren’t big, and the weeds are enormous. August brings heat that makes you catch your breath, and tomatoes that are bigger than you would expect a plant could hold up.
All eyes are on the Atlantic, and the fear of a storm that builds off Africa, and treks across a body of water that is hot, so hot you can get into it and still not cool down. It is a good time to read, and make tomato sandwiches, and stay inside, and read some more. To date, nothing bad has happened. We will watch until October. And even after.
With the rain came mosquitos, young and hungry, following you around so aggressively that you cannot stop moving, for if you do, they land on your legs and feast. Early in the morning you can see the bats working the area beneath the trees, eating their fill. Still not enough. In the last decade droughts have kept the mosquitos at bay, and also the bats and dragonflies that feed on them. They have returned, perhaps not in great numbers, but they are back.