With my head in the clouds

I think I am never happier than with my head in the clouds - at least after a heat wave.

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Special thanks to Anni for the "inviting" message - we were already on our way back by then, but your encouragement (and understanding) is appreciated! How that hardy little Finnish "snowflake" stuck out the heat wave in Robertson is beyond my comprehension.

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Judy and I returned to Robertson late this afternoon, from Canberra, and as we turned off the Hume Highway, at Sutton Forest, we could see a bank of clouds in the east. Guess where? Robertson!

As I drove along Missingham Parade, I could see that George and the other denizens of Fountaindale Road were shrouded in mist, while we were still clear. Then it rolled in, to us, on the next ridge.

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I came into the house, threw open all the windows and doors, and let the little beads of misty moisture flow right through into the house. It is such a lovely feeling after the ridiculous baking of the last week.

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Moisture particles in fog appear to defy gravity - it seems they can float along horizontally, get carried upwards on a breeze, swirl around, even within a house. I don't know how, but that is certainly how it appears. As Judy and I sat down to dinner, I could feel tiny particles of moisture explode upon my forehead, even in the centre of the room. Blessed relief. It is good to be home again.

At 22 degrees Celsius, this is my kind of summer evening - with a light doona to sleep under tonight.