Monochrome Monday (scorcher)

My Dad was born in Summer but loved Winter.
My Mum was born in Summer and loves Summer.
My Mum actually gets excited about the approaching hot season.
She will happily sit in the sun without a hat or sunglasses, weeding her garden.

I've never seen her wear sunscreen.
And though she lives at the beach, she's never had a skin cancer to zap or cut out and wait for that best word in the English language - "benign".

She'll be calling today "glorious" while the media will use words like "scorcher" and most folk hunker down under the melodic thrum of their air conditioners muttering about "global warming"or"bloody northerlies".

I don't understand the weather.
I mean I know it's hot because the wind is from the north and I know the surf is lousy because the wind is from the north.
But. its early Spring.
The magpies are attacking pedestrians and cyclists with egalitarian gusto.
The jacaranda trees are flaming purple.
The air is redolent of blooms.
It's not Summer for another 50+ days.

Dean Brady at his local Point

And yet it's going to be something like 35 degrees Celsius of 95 degrees Fahrenheit, where I'm sitting, wearing a fleecy vest three hours after dawn. 

Glorious.