Summer is here at last. The air hot and golden, no clouds in the sky to dampen the sun's strength. Bees weave in and out of the foxgloves, butterflies flit about the garden's bloom. The apple trees in our orchard, their dark green leaves full and densely woven, offer me the only place of shade. I lie down beneath the largest tree, listen to the distant sounds of a farmer working in the hayfields nearby, and dream of my next cake.