110 Fahrenheit (43.33 Celsius) is a hot you can feel all the way through. It's not like being in an oven, not literally. Ovens are much hotter. It is like being really hot, though.
It was 110 Fahrenheit in the backyard and the air was dead still. There were dragonflies flitting around just above the ground. I wondered if they can feel the heat? There was a line of tiny, black ants processioning across the concrete of the back porch slab. I was sitting in the shade of the eaves with my back against the brick of the house. I was wondering how best to get rid of the grass clippings that were blown onto the bark mulch under the trampoline. They guy we'd paid to mow the lawn had blown them under there. 'Maybe I could just rake them under the bark,' I thought.
"I've come to an agreement with the rock troll," he said, startling me.
"Oh, hey. Hello. How are you?" I asked. It was good to see him.
"I'm well," he said, sitting down cross-legged in the grass facing me.
"It sure is hot," I said. He picked up a small, brown spider from the lawn and let it crawl over his fingers. He didn't say anything. "Are you hot?" I asked.
"Not really," he said. "It's a little warmer than usual. Down below it's much hotter."
"Down below where?" I asked, but he didn't answer.
"He won't be bothering us," he said instead.
"Who's that?"
"The rock troll," he replied. "He agreed to stay away from here."
"There's a rock troll? Around here?" I asked. "What, exactly, is a rock troll?"
"He's a big one. Tall as a tree. They tore up his hole putting in new houses a few miles north, so he's moved in over by the creek," he said. "They can be a real nuisance, so I had a talk with him. He's going to stay away from here."
I really wasn't sure how to react. "Oh. Well, uh... that's good," I stuttered. "Thanks for talking to him."
"You're welcome," he said, putting the spider back down softly on the grass. "That boy that cut your grass made a mess under there," he said, nodding toward the trampoline.
"I know," I replied. "I was just wondering what would be the easiest way to clean it up."
We sat and talked about small things for more than two hours, and I never did clean up those clippings. Sometimes you have to take time to talk to the gnome that lives in the yard. If you don't, you might go insane.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
