When I said yesterday that the forecast for the night was ‘sunny’, I should perhaps have added that that was the forecast for today, too.
And for tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow, as far as the predictions go, though not, I hope, until the last syllable of recorded time.
The brimstone butterflies would be a better illustration of the hellish weather, but they won’t stay still long enough to be photographed. Instead here’s a peacock butterfly who couldn’t find any green to settle on. 
I know it’s a full moon, but I’m a bit concerned about tonight’s forecast:
I don’t think there will be any daffodils in bloom for St David’s day tomorrow, but the apricot trees have suddenly burst into blossom. Of course, it’s far too early for them, but since we’ve had nothing but sunshine for weeks now, it’s hardly surprising that everything’s confused.
The river is as low as it usually is in summer and even when we get a frost, it seems to thaw to dryness and leaves the earth scorched rather than moist.
The locals have a theory about the drought: they say it’s because 2012 is bisiesto – a leap year.
I’m really not sure about the logic there, but who am I to come between el pueblo and their folclore? (Yes, that really is a Spanish word and it means exactly what you’d expect it to if you substitute a ‘k’ for the ‘c’.)
Personally, I was hoping bisiesto meant I’d get twice as many siestas as usual this year.
Well, I think it’s a cherry orchard, but I may have to go back when the trees are in blossom to be certain.
Skin to skin we lie
as dawn silvers the sky
beyond the cherry branches
don't confuse the narrator 