The lion of summer has padded in at long last. It was warm as blood when I rode home after the opera last night. A welcome feature of this configuration is all of the open car windows. Cars are like little floating islands. Riding among them in the open air, one catches drifts of cigarette smoke or vanillaroma car fresheners. One hears Mariachi music or a few thuds of hip-hop or snatches of conversation sometimes.
Most of the smells come from the trees and cut grass these days, but downtown smells like hydraulic oil (from busses, maybe?) and fresh wood planks from all of the construction. I hate to say it, but my new apartment smells like Ikea right at the moment.
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