signs of summer

With the acquisition of my new laptable table to which I sang a high praise in an earlier post, I finally moved my works to the gorgeous semi-outdoor (balcony). You see, I've got a balcony the size of a tokyo kitchen, but the positive thing about it is the trees that give an illusion of space. There's a semi enclosure of trees, tall, short, native, exotic, evergreen, and deciduous whose riotous foliage leave absolutely nothing unfenced other than a vintage voyeur view of the street and a patch of sky that I'm watching right now. The 8am clouds hurry eastwards like the flock of office birds in my street. It is perhaps a little breezy. I can almost smell the discrete scent of my potted French lavenders or is it the scent of the tree whose clusters of minute white flowers I've been wanting to name. Oh, and my faithful indigenous neighbour, how can I ever forget after being nibbed by a naughty member of their kind, visited us uninvited last night. His bushy tail skilfully clang to the handrail in a pause of caution while his prominent pink nose breathed in deeply on the restless scents of summer. He must've found my money plants and baby spinach delicious...