With the end of June, July has taken us into what feels like deep summer. A week of thunderstorms, a few days of relief, and now nearly unbearable heat and humidity. Handling fifty pound grain sacks leaves my clothes wringing wet at evening feeding time. Shade is a grace and a breeze a foretaste of glory. There are some other consolations as well. Fireflies are everywhere. Driving home after dark on Saturday, one landed on my windshield wiper and stayed, flashing out his lovelorn semaphore at 50 miles per hour down Browntown Road. Beast, the black cat, was on the porch last night, nearly invisible, his eyes glowing green in the twilight, surrounded by the blinking green of a half dozen fireflies. If I weren't so tired, I would go out and catch some in a jar, and let them light my way home.