the sky is the colour of ceres porcelain or an oil painting of a windy isle, the hot sun softens, the days easier, the clouds are white like patches on blue jeans, the cooler air conjuring the blues of the skies, mystical and haunting, the streamβs summer greys singing of rusty pools and white linen, as babbling water falls from the mountains and rushes to breathe. summer becomes tender, opens her heart to the beauty of the sky, lingers with flashy sunlight, and touches of brilliance to those water-colour skies and sends us adieus and sweet memories of childrenβs laughter and happy, warm days.