The smell of sun-warmed skin mixing with salt air gives us sleepy eyes and soft smiles.

The dew gathering on cider bottles
Rolls,
Drips,
Settles on the porous slats of the table.

Waves crash lightly, distant and invisible
Claws scratch along the deck
After tennis ***** and plum stones
Stopping at the rails.

There is a quiet murmur of life in the neighbourhood.
The hum of barbeques.
Parties.
Bike-riding families laughing up the streets
And people like us,
Sitting outside, food and company
Soaking up the last of the afternoon sun.

Crumbs fall onto my skirt,
Black and stiff with dried salt,
Unwashed and unironed.
I brush off morsels of Galaxy Blue Cheese
Wellaby's Crackers -
Sun-dried tomato flavour.
Gluten-free.

Claws scramble towards my feet
Where three dogs vacuum my castoffs
As if they haven't been eating all day.

The Pogues declare that "the bells were ringing out for Christmas Day"
As my aunt laughs
Warm, harsh, and unashamed.

And it feels like Summer.