Little by little, summer rolls through the door. Little by little, it rolls away to spend some time on the bottom half of the ball. We are used to it now, to yellow grass and blue skies, skipping out the screen door without our shoes. Tomatoes at every meal, plenty of plenty. It never feels, on the food front, anything less than bountiful here, to me. But the generosity of the weather, of being able to do what you like when you want - waking to sun and breakfast on the deck, making dinner in minutes, taking the bike to the park only to do the slide and come home in time for dessert... It feels as luxurious as the white peaches we've been plowing through, four and five a day, as the candy bowl of sungolds, always on the table, as the pink evening sky behind the fat, dry sunflowers, which the birds pick at before bed.