Pff, it is hot as hell. A Tsunami of heat is falling upon you as when you were hitting the Great Square of Sint-Niklaas (coming from the Park Lane) in that summer of ’76 which has suddenly become famous again through this year’s record-breaking edition. Or as on that one holiday in Turkey in 2008 when no one bothered to give the salesmen on the local markets the pleasure of bargaining. They were hiding from the +40 °C under their tents anyway.
This is excellent weather when you are on vacation, dolce far niente, sweet doing nothing but getting sweaty …
Too hot. Unbearable. This is outrageous.
To be honest? It is our Planet crying out for mercy!
Help, I’m burning. I will show you something – to make you change your mind (??)
But who is digging these signals? Our politicians? Or John Q. Public, also my nick-name when I am dumping my lazy body again behind the wheel of my private holy cow to emit more and more CO2.
Along Flanders roads.
In Flanders Fields the ozon grows, make way for grave yards rows on rows.
Much ado about 1918: Last Post, Ypres, nostalgic British World War I pilgrims.
And …..? Do we really want to come to our senses and down to Earth (*) after this summer of 2018?